Per Aspera Ad Astra
by Lost4theStars
Summary: When Sirius Black- the boisterous, reckless marauder- enters his 6th year at Hogwarts, he expects a normal year. But he's haunted by the abuse that has been inflicted on him by his parents, and when the Marauders find out, Sirius realizes he's breaking- and can't do anything to stop it. TRIGGER WARNINGS. Child abuse, cutting, suicidal thoughts, swearing, slash. RL/SB, LE/JP.
1. Back Home

**AN: This is my first time posting a multi-chapter story on here, so I hope you enjoy this! Trigger warnings (not so much now than in later chapters). Please no flames, but I'd love constructive criticism. RR!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the herby mentioned characters nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction. (What do you think? If I were J. K. Rowling I would not be writing this crappy fanfic.)**

Falling felt like an eternity.

Hitting the ancient, costly vase and feeling it shiver, as if it was alive and its heart were trembling, before bursting into a thousand pieces, seemed to take a mere instant.

Sirius had scrambled up, _Reparo_ on his lips, but his mother caught him before he could fix the vase.

Thus his summer began. Being locked in a drafty closet with no food and minimal water was less than pleasant, and, of course, he just _had_ to go and make his situation worse when he was finally liberated after two weeks by stealing his father's alcohol.

He wasn't trying to get high, Sirius told himself. He just hadn't had any in a long time. Of course, this was a notorious canard. Truthfully, Sirius had wanted to forget. And alcohol could make him do that.

And his yearning led drowning one of the four bottles, which, in turn, led to a broken jaw. Followed by an array of kicks which resulted in colorful bruises splashed across his stomach. When his father had drunken the rest of the alcohol himself, all of it in one night, he had administered a beating that left Sirius practically bedridden for another handful of weeks.

He didn't cry through any of it. He had stopped that "childish behavior" when his mother got the brilliant idea to punish his six-year-old self with the Cruciatus curse for crying. Sirius had never let a tear leave his eye after that. _I'm old enough not to go around blubbering like a little kid._

Sirius survived on his friends' letters.

James would write in his messy scrawl jokes and hopes and wonders and, of course, rants about Lily - whatever came to his mind, really - and Peter would wish him good summers and tell him of his trips to America. Remus _actually_ separated his thoughts into different paragraphs, letting the narration of his summer, questions of Sirius' own, and oft-pondered inquiries of schoolwork - as well as the coming years - to take shape in his neat handwriting.

So when the first of September rolled around, Sirius was pretty sure he was hyperventilating in relief.

 _I'm getting out, I'm getting out! I have a whole year to enjoy. I can't wait to see my friends!_

In the privacy of his bedroom, Sirius waved his wand over his face, and the bruise on his jawbone tingled before disappearing completely. He'd never let his friends see testaments of the summer. Then he closed his trunk and, with a lifting heart, began to drag it downstairs.

Remus arrived at Platform 9 3/4 filled with excitement at the prospect of seeing his friends after a whole summer without them. They had accepted him despite Remus being a werewolf, which was more than he had ever thought was possible. He knew now, however, that he could not hope to survive without the Marauders.

"Moony!"

He looked over to see James and Peter calling to him. "Hi James, hi Peter," he greeted his friends, then looked around. "Where's Sirius?"

James gestured to a group of four. "Pads is with his family."

Remus looked at the Blacks curiously. He knew Sirius hated his family and their pureblood mania, but today he was looking especially sullen, staring at the ground while Orion and Walburga smiled at Regulus, his brother.

Sirius' father turned to him. Remus was too far away to hear Orion's words, but was it defiance he saw glittering in his friend's stormy grey eyes, or perhaps…fear?

Finally catching sight of his friends, Sirius' expression brightened and he walked toward them without a second glance at his infuriated father. "Thank Merlin, I was fucking dying there without any sane person to talk to!" He grinned, but Remus thought he saw something the smirk could barley conceal, though he didn't know what it was.

Instead of asking, he merely muttered, "language, Sirius." The teenager raised a jesting eyebrow at him.

"Good thing you came over here, mate!" James grinned. "We're as sane as you can get!"

Sirius laughed as the scarlet train rolled into the station. "Devised any new pranks for Snivelly?"

As they got on the train and sat down in the compartment, the Marauders talked and joked. James reminiscing over the times Lily had been in near proximity and had not yelled at him, Sirius making a tease out of everything, and Peter tagging along.

Remus was staring idly out the window of the Hogwarts Express when the compartment door slid open.

"A word, Sirius?"

A boy about a year younger that Sirius, with the same black hair and fine features, stood at the door.

"Why?" James challenged before Sirius could answer.

The boy in the Slytherin robes rolled his eyes, face impassive and cold. "I'm his brother."

Sirius stood up, an expression to match his siblings'. It struck Remus odd to see the two brothers, faces both coolly judging, only differently colored ties to show they were from separate houses.

"Okay, Regulus."

They slipped out of the compartment and James glared after them.

"What is it?" Remus raised his eyebrows.

"He's in Slytherin," James protested.

"He's not going to do anything to Sirius. They're _brothers_."

James shrugged but didn't stop glaring until Sirius came in, his eyes narrowed.

"What did he want?" Peter asked.

Sirius sat down. "Just some brother stuff." He smiled easily. "What? You guys all look like I'm about to get bloody killed!" he laughed and James joined in with a jesting comment.

Remus smiled as they approached Hogwarts, ready for a great year.

Sirius picked at his food, not hungry. After being practically starved the whole summer, it didn't feel right to eat. He noticed Remus giving him an odd look and took a bite, forcing himself to swallow. The food felt odd in his mouth, almost making him gag.

Finally they were told to go to their dormitories, to which Remus immediately stood up and called, "First years, this way!"

Sirius smiled at his friend. Of course he was taking his prefect duties with so much seriousness.

As he stood up, Sirius caught sight of Regulus and quickly looked away, the words his brother had told him scorching his mouth with acid.

"Pads?"

He looked up and saw James peering at him. "You okay, mate?"

"Sure, I'm fine." Sirius put up his smile once more, the mask he had formed from seeping scarlet and wisps of slithering silver.

James nodded, reassured, and they headed up to the dormitories with Peter in tow.

 **AN: And that's it! I know it started off boring, but you will get more of Sirius' troubles next chap! XD**


	2. Of Hunger and Homework

**AN: Hey all! Thnx so much to everyone who reviewed, it means so much! Trigger warning, again mostly in the next chapter. Oh, and of course swearing. I mean, we're talking about the Marauders here.**

 **PaigeLeanneR: You are officially the first person who reviewed this. Thanks, I hope you enjoy the chapter! I am going to do something with what Regulus said, tie it in somehow.**

 **DaughterOfPan14: Thank you, I hope this chapter meets up to your expectations!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for two copies of the Harry Potter series in varying states of overuse and disrepair.**

 **And guys, sorry about the fact that there was no line break-thing, but I've no idea how to put one in. Anyone know?**

"Wake up, James!"

James cracked his eyes open, surprised the voice was Remus' instead of Sirius'. This was odd, because Sirius would _always_ loudly wake his friends up at what James swore was around 4 in the morning. He yawned. _Maybe Sirius' finally getting some sense and deciding to sleep in instead of waking up at the_ _crack of dawn._ Mental, he was.

"James, you're going to miss breakfast!"

"Fuck," he groaned and opened his eyes. "Fine, _fine_! I'm coming!"

"Wake up, Sirius!" called Remus.

"Mmhm," was the only reply. He was still fast asleep.

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

Sirius yelped and flinched away from Remus, throwing up his arm as if to protect himself, eyes wide open with fear. At his yelp, James jumped and accidentally rolled off of his bed and onto the floor.

Remus stared at Sirius. "Are you okay?"

Sirius dropped his arm and grinned. "Merlin, Moony, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

The other boy shot him an odd look before making his way over to Peter.

"What happened to our early riser?" James grinned at Sirius from the floor. Sirius scowled back at him and stuck out his tongue. James stuck out his own in response.

"I call the bathroom!" yelled James before his friend could get a single word in and hauled himself off the floor, stumbling to said destination. "And wait for me to go to breakfast!" He could hear the other Marauders laughing behind him and suppressed a grin himself. He loved being back with his friends.

James stared at Lily. Her beautiful red hair shimmered like fire in the sunlight that shone through the window, her green eyes glowing emeralds. Her face broke into a smile as she mock-glared at a friend, laugh like wind chimes shivering in the breeze. Everything- everyone- around her was dull in comparison to the vivid witch, with the adorable spattering of freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, and the eyelashes that gently grazed her pale skin when Lily blinked so bright and gorgeous and perfect. Her skin itself looked so soft and creamy--

"You know, Prongs, she's going to notice if you spend the whole class staring at her."

James cast an amused Sirius a glare. "I'm not _staring_ at her."

" _Sure_ you aren't." He gave James an infuriating grin.

Remus rolled his eyes at him as he turned his gaze once again to Lily. "You better take notes, because I'm not sharing mine with you."

Sirius gestured to his sparse notes written in his neat copperplate handwriting, most of the parchment taken up by scribbles. "You should follow my example," he grinned.

"C'mon, Moony, you know you will," James whined.

"No, I won't."

"Aw, Moony, are you going to let me fail transfiguration?"

"You're going to fail anyway," Sirius added jokingly.

James shot him a foul look. "Shut up, Pads."

"Mr Potter, Mr Black! Why can I hear you talking?" McGonagall glared at them.

"Um...'cause you have ears?" Sirius smirked nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat, stormy grey eyes devious.

Her lips pursed in irritation. "And why are you talking during my class?"

"And why are you teaching during our conversation?" James shot back promptly.

"Detention, both of you."

"Oh deer," James sighed.

"This place is going to the dogs," Sirius agreed, both of them snickering.

"I hate homework!" James groaned.

Sirius wrote a few more lines and looked over at his friend's partially-completed essay. "What does that say?" He squinted at James' messy scrawl.

"Shut it, Pads. It's not like yours is any better."

"My handwriting is _much_ better!"

"Well, I wasn't taught how to meticulously dot each _i_ and loop each _y_ by a private tutor, so mine has the _right_ to be bad," James stated.

"Stop avoiding your homework," Remus said, looking up from his book, one eyebrow raised, while Sirius growled angrily.

"I didn't _ask_ to be born into an insane Pureblood family!"

"Okay, okay, calm down!" James turned back to his parchment, staring blankly at it. After a few moments he said, "Moony, can I see your Charms notes?"

Remus sighed and gave them to him. Cheering, James began to write.

An hour later they were interrupted by Peter, who trudged in from Herbology.

"Hey Pete," Sirius, who was staring blankly into the fire, muttered distractedly.

"Hello," Remus greeted, looking up from his book. "How are you?"

"Okay," Peter said, sitting down in an armchair. "I got a lot of homework from Herbology, though."

James grinned. "I finished my Charms essay _and_ my Potions one! Though, to be fair, the Potions one took much longer."

Remus smiled and got up. "Let's go to dinner."

"Yes! I'm _starving_!" said James enthusiastically.

"You're _always_ starving, Prongs," Sirius said.

After wolfing down his meal, he watched as Sirius picked at his. "Not hungry, mate?"

Sirius shook his head and James was subject to one of Remus' looks. James mouthed ' _What?_ ' at him, but Remus simply shrugged.

 **AN: So, that's it for today, folks. Next chap will contain major Siri angst, don't worry. I'm gettin' there! If any of you want me to, I can probably manage to post it today. It may be a pretty short one, or it may be a teeny bit longer than expected. We'll see. Anyways, hope you enjoyed. XD**


	3. Sick Security

**AN: So, here's the update! Sorry it's a really short chapter, but I was busy the last few days. TRIGGER WARNING: child abuse. Swearing, obviously.**

 **Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. OF ALL THIS STUFF. NOR DO I OWN THE WONDERFUL SHIP WOLFSTAR. JUST IN CASE YOU WONDERED. ; )**

 **Also: Does anyone know how to do line breaks?**

 _He loomed over Sirius. "Worthless piece of filth!"_

 _Sirius cringed as the first blow came down. Again, again, again._

 _Walburga Black stood next to Orion, her wand raised, her face carved into fury. "You are not my son!"_

 _When he cleared the blood from his eyes, they found a writhing body splayed across the ground, emitting a tortured scream that made Sirius shudder._

Regulus! No!

 _His brother was being whipped, over and over, the hard material drawing oozing blood from his pale skin. He shook beneath the belt, but didn't make a move to resist._

 _And Sirius could do nothing but watch._

He awoke with a start, heart pounding.

 _Stop it, stop it, stop it. They would never do that to Regulus. He's their perfect son, they would never beat him, never hurt him. Calm_ down _, Sirius!_

He closed his eyes, drawing the blanket almost all the way over his head, as though it would protect him from the nightmares. He closed his eyes, his breathing coming out in shaky gasps, unable to fall asleep.

Finally Sirius tossed away his blankets and put on his shoes, carefully heading out of the castle. He made it to the Quidditch pitch and stood for a moment, staring at the stars above him, before breaking into a run. The air was fresh and rich with the scents of September, grass squeaking below his trainers, head pounding with the beat of the earth's heart below him.

Back, forth, back, forth.To the line and back, to the line and back. The exhaustion gave him a vindictive pleasure.

After running as long as he could, most likely four miles in total, he was gasping for breath. Sirius felt a pang of anger at himself.

 _Weak. Pathetic._

He made his way back to the dormitory and got started on his transfiguration homework. By the time he woke his friends, Sirius had finished all of it.

"Rise and shine, Prongs!" Sirius chucked a pillow at his friend's head.

"I hate you," James mumbled and burrowed deeper into his blankets. Levitating them off his bed, Sirius grinned. "You love me. Who are you kidding?"

"Please don't do that to me," Remus moaned from across the room.

"Then don't act like Prongsie here!"

Peter yawned and got up just as Remus did, neither wanting to suffer the same fate as James.

Soon they headed down to breakfast, Sirius with the familiar dread pooling in his empty stomach.

 _Orion loomed over him. "Worthless piece of filth! You don't deserve to eat the food we earned, the food on our table!_ Do you?!

 _"N-No Sir," Sirius gasped out, barley able to breath as his father's hand closed around his throat._

 _"Remember that,_ scum _! You're a coward, you don't deserve to eat. Eating is not for filth like you." He released Sirius, pushing him out of the dining room. "Go to your room. And no food for the rest of the summer!"_

Sirius stared down at his toast. _I can't eat it, I just can't!_

"Sirius, why aren't you eating?" Peter squeaked from across the table.

 _Dammit!_ He took a bite, feeling sick. "What do you mean? I'm eating," he hissed coldly, casting Peter a glare. Wide eyed, his friend looked away nervously.

When the other Marauders' attention was fixed on post, he discreetly vanished the rest of his food before they could notice.

"Muggle Studies first period," Remus told Sirius, who flinched slightly. He had chosen Muggle Studies simply to annoy his parents, and had anticipated the beating that came, but it had been worse that he had expected. _Bloody hell, stop thinking!_

"Always on top of our schedule, Moony," he managed with a weak smirk, panic rising in him like a wave of water climbing. He was _supposed_ to have escaped his parents. Everything was supposed to be _normal_. _Why_ couldn't it just be normal? Why was he still trapped?

James laughed unknowingly, and Sirius felt the heat of guilt sweep through him. How was he lying so much already?

Attempting to control his semi-erratic breathing, Sirius took in a deep breath. _Shut up, shut up, shut up. You can't let them notice._

"Mate, quit daydreaming! We're going!"

"Right," he mumbled to James, getting to his feet. For a moment the air burned around him and spots of bright, fuzzy light flashed in his vision. Remus caught him as he tripped, looking worried, hands gripping his shoulders.

"You okay, Pads?"

His mask had slipped, fallen off his face, dissolved. Sirius couldn't bring himself to smile. "It's nothing, Moony. Just a bit tired." He pretended to stifle a forced yawn.

Shaking his head, Remus let go of him, and Sirius relaxed. _Stop thinking about it. You're at Hogwarts; you're safe._

 _I'm safe from him, yes. But from myself?_

 **AN: and there you are! Hope you liked it. But wait, before you go - review! Just press that little button - see it? - and tell me anything. I love constructive criticism, but no flames. Thnx!**


	4. The Full Moon

**AN: First of all, thanks so much to all the reviewers! I was not expecting all of those nice comments. XD**

 **Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. *sniffle* I wish I did. Warning: same stuff as last time.**

 **Flyboyfan23: Thank you! I try to put in as much angst and emotion as I can. ; )**

 **KidFlash14: I'm glad to know you're following this story! Thanks, I'll make Remus find out soon enough…but will it be too late by then? *dramatic music* ; )**

 **Franky239: I am aware that Sirius is Padfoot and not Moony. Can you point out where I made my typo, cause I can see 2 times Sirius called Remus Moony and a few times his friends called him "Pads" as short for Padfoot?**

 **And without further ado…**

"It's the first full moon tonight," James declared. "We ought to start off our year with something good. Besides, we haven't done _any_ pranks this year, and September's almost over!"

"I wouldn't call a full moon good," Remus snapped, lifting his eyes from a book. "And don't be so _loud_ , for Merlin's sake."

Sirius yawned, resting his head against a bookshelf. Had he not slept? James wondered. Usually his friend was so outgoing and boisterous. "Touchy, touchy little wolfie," he sang, turning back to Moony with a grin.

"Shut. The. Fuck. _Up_ ," Remus growled, voice low and gravelly.

"Okay, okay, sorry." James rolled his eyes, knowing his friend's reactions and general moods became harsher as the full moon approached and that it was better not to push him.

"So what should we do?" Peter asked.

"Can't we just see what happens when we get there?" Sirius suggested. "It all depends on how Moony is."

"Yeah, you're right," James assented. "But we still have to plan a prank." He looked hopefully at best friend, hoping to gain support from the lanky teenager, but Sirius seemed as though he was about fall asleep right there in the library. "Hey, mate, you should go to sleep."

"What?" he mumbled, eyes opening in a flash. "I have to do homework, Prongs."

"Well, you're not getting much of it done now," James commented. "Come on, you have to be rested for tonight. And eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Sirius whined.

"How can someone just not be hungry?" protested James.

"Just 'cause you eat about everything in the dining room doesn't mean I have to!"

"Calm down," Remus snapped. "Sirius, just eat a bite of something."

"Fine," he huffed. Thus, Sirius ended up staring at the food in the Great Hall, unable to bring anything up to his mouth.

He finally swallowed a few bites of chicken, something like guilt in his grey eyes.

The three Marauders bade goodbye to Remus, who was going to the hospital wing, then headed up to their dorm.

Peter immediately fell asleep, but James stayed up and worked on an essay while Sirius was taking a shower. He noticed Sirius took longer than usual, but waved the matter away. _Just wants to make sure his hair is perfect. Of course he does._

When his friend finally came out, pulling a sweater over his pajamas as he did, James greeted him with a, "go to sleep, you idiot. You took _forever_."

"Night, Jamie," Sirius sang, ducking the book the other teenager threw at him before getting into bed and pulling the curtains around him closed.

oOo

"You reckon we should let him sleep? He looked right exhausted today."

"He doesn't eat, the bastard." Remus' voice came in a clipped tone.

"What? Of _course_ he eats!" James exclaimed.

"Are you _blind_?" Remus huffed, irritated. "He's clearly missed out on a few meals. No idea why, though. Now come _on_ , we're wasting time!"

"M'wake," Sirius mumbled sleepily, opening his eyes and bringing up a hand to rub at them.

"Well, let's _go_!"

 _Sounds like this will be a bad moon,_ he thought forlornly before getting up and following his friends outside under the invisibility cloak.

Finally in the shrieking shack, Remus began to transform, hunching over in the darkness, fur bursting from his body, agonized yowls tearing themselves from him.

Sirius winced. He hated this. He _hated_ seeing one of his best friends transform into a dark creature, one who had no remembrance of the gentle, kind teenager he'd once been. Sirius loathed seeing Remus in pain, scratching at himself and everything around him in a fury. _He's done_ nothing _to deserve going through Hell and back again once a month!_

Already turned into their Animagi forms, the three others approached him. Sirius was the first to prance closer to Moony, distracting the wolf from biting himself.

He growled and lunged at Padfoot, but the dog slipped around him, engaging him in a fight. Prongs and Wormtail let them battle it out before both, Sirius especially, were worn out. As soon as they began to calmly engage in some more play, Moony viciously lunged for Wormtail.

With a bark, Padfoot threw himself at the wolf, their bodies colliding. Moony immediately forgot all about Peter, going for the black dog instead.

Twist around, jerk backwards, jump… Padfoot felt his muscles shake with the exertion as he leaped onto the wolf, bowling him over. Moony thrust him off, jumping atop Sirius mercilessly, who let out a tiny whimper, struggling out of the wolf's grasp.

Prongs immediately jumped in, fending Moony down and giving Sirius time to lick his wounds before returning to the battle.

Finally Moony calmed once again, eyes still glowing, but body slightly less tense as he chewed at the leg of a chair.

Padfoot slumped in a corner. _I have to stay conscious. I can't be weak; Remus needs me._

With that thought, he got to his paws and faced the wolf once again.

oOo

"Sirius, what the hell are you _doing_?" James yelled.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the sixteen-year-old said loftily, flicking the end of his cigarette and giving his best mate a half-smirk.

"Moony's in the hospital wing! And you're sitting on a ledge smoking like you'll never die!"

"Sod off, James," Sirius hissed, demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. He stuck the cigarette back in between his parted lips. "We aren't allowed in the hospital wing, or else I would be there."

He was, indeed, sitting languidly on a ledge outside the window, James noted, an arm draped over his knees, head lolled back against the stone. His white button-down shirt, the same one James was wearing, had its first few buttons undone, and he was lacking a tie.

"I came to tell you that we can go in, you bastard."

Sirius fixed him with an unreadable gaze before stubbing the cigarette against his arm and throwing it away from him. In a single fluid motion, he pulled himself back into the room through the open window and shut it behind him, turning to look at James and pulling the cuffs of his shirt down over his wrists.

His friend stared at him, brows furrowing and eyes widening, making him look like a deer in headlights. "Padfoot, you just stubbed that thing _against your arm_! It was _burning_!"

"I smoke, Prongs. What do you expect?"

"No one does that! That's self-self _harm_!"

Sirius rubbed a hand over his face, and for the first time, James realized how tired he must be. "Listen, it didn't hurt. I wasn't thinking. I won't do it again. Now come on, let's go see Moony."

Letting the matter go, albeit reluctantly, James followed his friend to the hospital wing, where Sirius immediately went to Remus' bedside, parting the curtains around the bed as he did so.

James looked down at the werewolf. He was so pale, skin like iridescent shadows, eyes mercifully closed. Prongs didn't miss the light brush of Sirius' hand against Remus', but disregarded it.

"Does he have any wounds?" his friend asked as Madam Pomfrey came bustling toward them.

"He has a gash on his right shoulder and is quite tired, but I healed the cut and will give him a Pepper-Up Potion," the matron reported.

"Did I miss anything?" came an excessively loud question as Peter burst into the hospital wing.

Sirius flinched, and James saw him tighten his hold on Moony's hand before, as if unaware he had been doing it, letting go.

"No," James snapped before Padfoot could voice a sarcastic comment in reply.

"Oh, okay," Peter squeaked, coming to a stop next to the other two marauders.

Sirius was staring at Remus, face an unreadable mask, but James could see the flashing emotions in his stormy grey eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a free hand. James knew these days and nights were torture for all the Marauders, Remus for having to endure them; the others for having to watch their friend suffer. And it hadn't been a good first moon; the wolf seemed more enraged than usual, and Sirius exhausted.

But could what Remus had said actually be true? Sirius _was_ eating, right? How could he not be?

Shaking the worrisome thoughts from his mind, he looked over as Lily Evans entered the hospital wing.

"I brought the notes from yesterday's and this morning's classes," she informed James as she walked up to him, handing him a pile of paper. "He told me he was going down with a fever so when he wasn't here yesterday I took notes for him." She glanced over Sirius, who was blocking her view of Remus, standing in a slightly protective stance.

James nodded, not able to believe Lily Evans had actually spoken to him without yelling or shooting insults. "Thanks," he managed.

She eyed him with some unreadable emotion before looking back to the bed. "Is he okay?"

James thought Sirius would literally growl, but instead he said swiftly, "fine. It's just a cold."

Lily bade goodbye and walked out of the hospital wing, leaving the marauders to their lonesome wait.

 **AN: So, I hope that was good. I'm honestly dying for more reviews, so…pretty please? If you could? Thnx XD**


	5. An Enigma Of Pumpkins

**AN: sorry I haven't updated in a while, I was very busy with RL. I send loads of thanks to all my reviews, they're what spurred me to keep writing. And now, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: everything belongs to dear J K Rowling, not me. Except for the plot, obviously.**

He knew he was falling. He knew it in every meal he missed out of shame and fear, every flash of dizziness invading his senses, every time his heart sped up into what he supposed counted as arrhythmia.

 _I don't deserve to eat,_ he told himself. _I don't need help; my heart is perfectly normal._

But Sirius was falling.

If anything, his grades showed it. "Mr Black, you have to pay attention in class," McGonagall would say. "You are lacking the power - the energy - to do the spell," his Defense professor chastised. "You have to work harder."

Sirius did work hard. Of course, he had ended up getting good grades in previous years despite his lacking concern for homework. This year he was more disciplined, yet his grades had dropped magnificently.

Remus saw him. He saw Sirius write and study and read, but it didn't make a difference. Sirius would fall asleep in almost every class, and be unable to do repeated practicals.

He still ran in the mornings, however. The exhaustion was pleasing, as though tiring himself was rewarding.

And he practically lived off of coffee.

"Pass it," Sirius grunted. Peter complied, handing him the coffee pot. Remus rolled his eyes over the _Daily Prophet_ he was hidden behind.

"Why won't Lily say yes?" James was groaning. "It's unfair!"

"Stop bothering her," Remus suggested mildly.

"I only asked her _once_ this whole _week_!"

"I don't get why she keeps refusing you," Peter offered, as if hoping to comfort the distraught James.

Sirius yawned into his cup, thoughts already drifting from his best mate's dilemma.

oOo

"It's Halloween!" James cheered.

"Great, Prongs," muttered Remus. "And why do we care?"

Sirius grinned. "Don't be so rude, Moons. We have a great plan for this one."

"Lemme guess," his friend said dryly; "a prank."

"Exactly!" James pumped the air with his first before summoning a sheet of parchment. "Look. So, we're going to put something into the food--"

"That turns the Slytherins' hair all red," Sirius cut in. "Red and gold."

"And make the food explode in their faces," James finished.

"Guys, there's a major flaw. Tsk, tsk. Some Marauders aren't up to scratch, are they?" Remus grinned.

Sirius crossed his arms. "Go on, tell us what's so wrong!"

"Padfoot, there's no way to stop the other houses from eating the food!"

"Oh, yeah." The bespectacled boy deflated and Sirius muttered something under his breath. "But we go down to the kitchens, right?"

"Yeah?"

"And we put the charm on only the Slytherin table."

"So you aren't going to charm the food, you're going to charm the table," Remus clarified.

"Same thing. Now come on, let's go! We've got it worked out already."

The other three Marauders followed James to the painting that opened up to the kitchens.

Immediately house elves began surrounding them.

"What would you like, Sirs?" one squeaked.

"Nothing, thank you," Remus said. "We're quite alright. We just wanted to see how you make the Halloween feast."

"Come on," James hissed to Sirius, and both walked nonchalantly over to the Slytherin table. When they were sure no one was looking, the boys charmed the table silently, wands rustling as they stuffed them away.

James grinned. "This is going to be great."

oOo

Sirius had eaten too much.

When he had seen all the food, that giant feast laid out before him, he didn't think before diving in. _Let Father go to hell,_ Sirius had thought. _I've got no rules here._

And thus he proceeded to watch the Slytherins' hair turn bright red and gold and the food exploding in their faces, and he laughed.

But now he was certain _he_ was the one in hell. He wasn't sure how Peter was still alive after eating four servings of pudding.

"Padfoot, are you okay? You look unwell," Moony commented, eyebrows creasing.

"I'm fine, I just ate - _fuck_ \- a bit too much." Sirius tried to appear nonchalant about the whole matter, when really his stomach was writhing at the sudden, unexpected amount of food, and bile rose in his throat.

As soon as he was liberated from dinner, Sirius ran to the nearest bathroom, casting a weak excuse over his shoulder. He immediately locked himself in a stall and threw up, shaking madly.

Exhausted, Sirius leaned back against the door as dizziness overwhelmed him. _Goddamit, I can't do this!_


	6. Thunder

**AN: Twice in one day? But SleepPerchance2Dream, HOW!? Answer: My creative juices are flowing! The plot bunnies just keep coming. ; )**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and *sniffle* never will.**

"Get up, you lazy fleabag!"

Sirius opened one eye. _Damn, I overslept. I won't be able to run._

"There's a Quidditch match today!" James practically roared in his ear.

He groaned, getting unsteadily to his feet. Sirius had only taken Quidditch because James had pressured him to and, well, _why the hell not?_ Now, however, he was severely regretting his decision. Practices had been grueling enough, and he didn't think matches would be any better.

"Prongs," he cut across his friend's rambling, "who are we playing?"

"The _Slytherins_." James sniffed in disdain.

Sirius swore as he walked over to the bathroom.

"What?"

"I have to play my brother," he sneered. That little coward was a seeker on the Slytherins' team, and while Sirius himself was a keeper, he would still have to see Regulus.

 _They give you everything you ask for._ He could almost see his brother, pulling him closer in the train's hallway, hissing words of warning. _You have to stop fighting against them._

But what did Reg know? He had worn his mask of the perfect son far too long for Sirius to distinguish what was skin and what was cold, silver metal. His brother had been born to adapt, born to never let a single truth flicker across his blank face, like a porcelain plate painted to cover the cracks.

Sirius had sought refuge with Uncle Alphard and Andromeda instead of attaining solace through another's spilled blood. He rebelled against his family after meeting his friends, after being put in Gryffindor. But his brother had been corrupted by their parents' pure-blood mania, and it had been too late for Sirius to draw him out of it.

He slammed his hairbrush down onto his trunk, having finished washing up and brushing his hair.

"C'mon, mate!" James urged.

After a haphazard breakfast in which Sirius had refused food and Prongs had berated him for twenty minutes straight until Moony told him to step back and calm down, the two friends were stepping out onto the Quidditch pitch, James rattling off statistics.

"The ground is pretty hard, that's good; looks cloudy, that isn't so brilliant, we'll have to hope it doesn't get foggy; or rain, for that matter - rain could impend out vision quite a lot, obviously that's not good. Padfoot, you have to cover all three hoops, these Slytherins won't go easy--"

"Prongs, mate, take a deep breath," Sirius said. "I know what I have to do. You just concentrate on scoring, okay?"

His friend huffed out an annoyed breath and made his way to the changing rooms to give his team a pep talk.

 _I'm not nervous,_ Sirius thought as his stomach fluttered. _I do not get nervous._

But he was all too aware of his rapidly pumping heart as he stepped out onto the pitch and watched James shake hands with the Slytherin captain. He pointedly avoided Regulus' gaze, squeezing his hands on his broom's sleek handle.

Madam Hooch brought the whistle to her lips and blew, Sirius kicking off into the sky.

His heart gave an almost painful jump, but his mouth twisted into a grin. Sirius loved being up in the sky, feeling the wind lash against him and his robes flow out behind him. He settled in front of the hoops, narrowing his eyes and fixing his gaze on the Quaffle and players surrounding it.

However, it was well after ten minutes that the red ball came close to Sirius. A big, bulky figure in green robes attempted to score, but he caught it easily and threw it to James, who sped off toward the opposite goal and managed to score.

Then the rain began to pour. It didn't come slowly, instead dumping bucketfuls of cold, searing water onto the players below. Sirius shivered and glanced toward the stands, making out Remus and Peter admits the downpour. He could barley see the Quaffle in this weather, nonetheless the snitch.

The others were having similar problems, most seeming jolted by the wind and heavy rain. Hand shaking, Sirius pulled his wand out from beneath his robes and pointed it at James, muttering a spell that would make him able to see though his glasses. The teenager shot him a grateful look, as he hadn't brought his wand with him.

Through the sheets of water Sirius saw a Slytherin approach him, the Quaffle under his arm. He dived for it as the player threw it at a hoop, reaching out.

But a shock of lightning and thunder flashed through the pitch, and Sirius yelled, voice lost in the downpour, ducking wildly against his broom.

He cursed when he realized the Slytherin had scored, still trembling from the fright.

"Padfoot! Are you okay?!"

"James!" Sirius screamed above the howling wind, looking at the approaching chaser. "Just someone find the snitch!"

His heart was beating too fast, shuddering vividly against his chest. Sirius bent over, trying not to throw up.

"Pads! Are you sick?!"

"Just go!" Sirius coughed out. "I'm fine." He attempted to straighten, but the wind pushed him flat against his broom. Shivering at another bolt of lightning, he scanned the pitch.

Two flashes, one of red and one of green, were flying neck-to-neck after what appeared to be the snitch.

The crowd and the wind and the yells all blurred until they were one big mass of unidentifiable noise, a bludger whirling towards him as he kicked it away. But it came again, and he wasn't ready, letting out a breathy groan as it hit his arm, but forcing it away from him all the same.

His body on fire, Sirius searched for Moony among the crowd, desperate for the werewolf to meet his eyes.

The cry of "GRYFFINDOR WINS!" barely registered, but Sirius angled his broom towards the ground and sped away from the sky. He nearly crashed into the ground, pulling himself up sloppily just in time, collapsing into Remus, who had run out to meet him, and James, who was thoroughly soaked as well.

"M-Moony," Sirius whispered. "I really don't like storms."

"Padfoot, you're hurt. We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey," his friend said urgently. "Come on. Let Prongs celebrate his victory alone."

"You prats, I'm going with you," James protested, and the three headed off of the muddy, drowning pitch.

oOo

Two hours later, Sirius clutched a butterbeer, thankful for its warmth, a newly healed arm draped over James' shoulders.

They were sitting in the common room, Sirius next to James on the sofa, both Peter and Remus seated on separate armchairs, each of them clutching a bottle of butterbeer. All were silent, and the common room was as well, for the rain had washed away all happiness of winning.

Sirius distantly remembered a time when he'd been excited to hear the loud claps of thunder, but that was before lightning had given him away to his mother.

He didn't remember what he had done to Bellatrix when he was six, only that she had run after him, his mother on her heels, and Walburga had caught him hiding under a table when the lightning had illuminated the dark room, ready to tell his father to administer a beating.

The first time Orion had used an unforgivable spell on an eleven-year-old Sirius, thunder shook the house.

When a tempest took over the sky, Orion had held a knife to Sirius' throat, drunken eyes narrowing as he threatened to kill his son, who was only fourteen.

Sirius hated storms.

"Well, we won," James said hollowly.

"It was kind of a disaster," admitted Remus.

"I let in a goal," Sirius muttered scathingly. _How could I?_

"Everyone lets in goals," James amended bracingly. "You saved another. Besides, _we won_."

Mumbling his assent, Sirius closed his eyes. The steady hum of rain echoed in his mind and he rested his head against James' shoulder.


	7. No Signature

**AN: Morning update! Sorry, I may be going through the calendar too fast - it's already Christmas. But I need the Marauders to know soon.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the herby written characters. Might I add that I don't own Hogwarts? I know, bummer.**

 **Enjoy! xD**

 **Oh, wait! WARNINGS: Child abuse, swearing, panic attack.**

 **NOW you can enjoy!**

Sirius followed his friends to breakfast and sat down. He had to find a way to avoid it and Remus' looks. He _just couldn't eat_. Not when he didn't deserve it. Not when he was a traitor, a liar.

"Post!" James smiled as owls swooped down around them. "I'm expecting a letter from Mum."

Sirius bit down the pang of jealousy. He watched an owl landed before him, an elegant scroll tied to it's leg. The seal on the letter was of a dark green, a waxed insignia of darkness.

And he immediately knew who it was from.

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his fingers, his body. It claimed the short breaths that slid through his lips, swirling in his vision and constricting his chest.

 _No, no, no. Nononono…_

"Sirius?"

 _Nononono…_

"Sirius!"

He looked over to see Remus staring at him. "Are you going to take your letter?"

Sirius ripped the letter off of the owl's leg and ran.

He didn't know where he was going; he just had to get away from his friends, from the joyful clatter that resounded in the Great Hall.

He just had to get away from the letter, the memories, even though he had taken them with him.

He only wanted to flee from everything.

oOo

 _Sirius-_

 _You are to return home for the holidays. Do not argue. This decision is final._

There was no signature.

He lay his head on his knees and wrapped his arms around himself, one hand balled around the crumpled letter. He squeezed his eyes closed and then sank into a memory.

 _Orion sets down his glass on the table, hard. His eyes narrow at Sirius and he unsteadily makes his way over to him._

 _The silver ring Orion wears makes contact with Sirius' face, leaving blood in it's wake. Sirius stumbles back and his shoulders hit the wall._

 _Orion kicks at him, over and over. Sirius lets a groan escape his lips that he did not mean to let slip out. He is not in control anymore._

 _His father curses at him, undoes his belt and kicks Sirius onto his stomach. He raises his arm and the belt falls back down._

 _Pain._

Splintering, burning pain.

"Sirius?"

He rocked back and forth, his eyes shut tightly. He couldn't breath, couldn't breath, panic sending pain shooting up into his chest, burning in his heart. _I'm drowning I'm drowning oh fuck help I'm drowning no no no he's going to find me he's going to come nononono -_

"Sirius, it's okay," a voice soothed.

His flying heart settled slightly at the sound.

"It's okay, you're okay," it said, tone still gentle and calming. "Everything's fine."

 _No it's not it's not okay I'm going to go back it's not fine nothing's fine I'm spinning out of control -_

A small hand landed on his shoulder. He flinched violently, and it was taken away. "You're at Hogwarts, Sirius. You're okay. Concentrate on me. Do you hear me?"

 _Okay okay okay okay okay what the fuck does it mean okayokayokayokay IT'S NOT OKAY -_

"Sirius, please don't pass out."

He attempted to reign his breathing back into control. _What am I doing, freaking out like this?_

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, ashamed now that the anxiety was dying. Sirius jumped up and the world spun. She steadied him.

"Do you want some water?"

Nodding mutely, he leaned against the wall, relieved it was only Lily who had seen his breakdown. But wait… "You hate me," he mumbled.

"I hate it when you're an arrogant prick, and I don't think it's right to do all the things you Marauders do, but you looked like you needed help." The redhead waved her wand and caught the glass of water it procured, handing it to him. "I wasn't about to leave you there."

Sirius gratefully drowned the water, gripping the glass forcefully to stop his shaking hands. "Oh."

Lily frowned. "What happened?"

Ignoring her, he focused his grey eyes on the wall opposite him.

"It's fine to have panic attacks, you know, there's nothing wrong with it. I just wonder why. I can help you fix whatever's wrong."

 _Like hell you can._ Sirius stared at Lily for a moment before turning and running.


	8. Like Hell I Am

**AN: Hey all, sorry it's been ages. I didn't mean to leave you hanging…**

 **Now, before you start throwing stuff at me, I made you an extra long chappie!**

 **But first, a big THANK YOU goes to all of my** **reviewers. I live off of those things, let me tell you. And I would especially like to thank KidFlash14, who has given me multiple reviews. SO REVIEW, PLEASE!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and never will. Come on, you should know that by now. However, I took the quotes Sirius says below from Pink Floyd's song Nobody Home and distorted them slightly.**

 **Without further ado, let us proceed!**

Remus, usually quite good at Transfiguration, could not, for the life of him, turn his parrot into a quill.

Because he was too busy worrying about Sirius.

After Sirius had gotten his letter and ran off, the Marauders immediately had to go to their classes and Remus was doomed to stay there until lunch. He had not been able to find his friend during lunch due to the fact that he had been talking with Professor Flitwick for half of the period and the other half failing dismally in his attempt to find Sirius in the Gryffindor Common Room or dormitories. Then he had had to go back to classes, and despite James' idea of a "distraction prank" so they could all skip school and look for Sirius, there was never enough time to plan or do it. Transfiguration, his last class of the day, was proving no better than all the others.

Truth be told, Remus was rather anxious.

When McGonagall dismissed the class, she told him to stay behind. A bit uneasy, he waved his friends away and approached his teacher.

"Mr Lupin, it has come to my attention that Sirius has skipped all of his classes as well as Transfiguration. Do you know why and where he is?"

Remus stared at her. "Er… He left the Great Hall during breakfast. I don't know where he went."

"Why did he leave during breakfast?" McGonagall frowned, looking slightly worried.

Remus swallowed. Should he lie? "He, um, he got...upset."

"Upset?" She pursed her lips.

"He got a letter and then he ran away. I haven't seen him since."

McGonagall frowned. "Thank you, Mr Lupin. You may go. If you find him, please tell me."

Even more uneasy now, Remus ran to find his friends. They agreed to look for Sirius and so, without further ado, he set off.

oOo

Sirius looked up at the stars, murmuring their names under his breath, tracing the constellations with his eyes. He always found it peaceful, calming. He leaned his head against a pillar, and when he closed his eyes, stars danced in his vision, breaking the mirrors of darkness with glittering pinpricks of light.

"Sirius?"

Biting his lip, he opened his eyes. Didn't anyone get he just wanted to be _alone_?

"You skipped all of your classes. What happened?" Remus asked softly.

Sirius shook his head. Despite being a werewolf, Remus wouldn't understand; his parents loved him, furry little problem and all.

Silence enveloped the two, night wrapping around them in a heavy blanket of dusky evening.

Swallowing, Sirius handed Remus the letter. _He won't know why I got so worked up over it._

He looked back up at stars, finding his own namesake. It might have been his imagination, but Sirius thought the star glowed a little less brighter.

oOo

"Sirius, you have got to stop smoking."

The teenager, who was currently lounging on his bed, arms folded beneath his head and legs crossed languidly, ignored him. "You want one, Moony?"

"I'd rather keep my lungs intact," Remus said with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, mates! We got the firewhiskey!" James yelled as he burst into the dorm, Peter trailing behind him, both of their arms loaded with the alcohol. His solution to Sirius' despondency was to drink away the problems until they passed out, and the black-haired teenager had readily agreed.

Remus sat up. "Prongs, you're going to get a hangover."

Sirius smirked. "Not if I can help it." Without further ado, he silently summoned a bottle with an elegant twitch of his wand and corked it open, raised one eyebrow daringly, and drowned half of the firewhiskey in one gulp. The cigarette was left in a dangling hand.

"Whoa, Pads, if you keep going at that rate you'll be dead drunk," James replied, looking slightly worried.

"Shut up, mate, and get Moony one; he looks like he's going to kill me," Sirius laughed.

Despite Remus' protests, he ended up with a bottle in his hand, slightly glad that the alcohol took the edge off of things.

 _"What are you idiots doing now!?"_

Sirius laughed again. "Getting drunk, Lils." He had had by far the most drink, with James right behind him, but Sirius could hold his alcohol surprisingly well.

Lily crossed her arms over her chest as Remus looked over to see her standing in the doorway of the dormitory. "Well, _stop_ throwing the bottles against the wall! The whole _tower_ can hear you!"

"Sorry," Remus apologized. After all, he was still on his first bottle. "Prongs wants to start a Quidditch match and Padfoot's getting a bit mad."

 _"Like hell I am!"_ Sirius roared, hurling his now-empty firewhiskey across the room, where it hit the wall with a mighty shattering.

"Sirius Orion Black scores!" James yelled, grinning madly. "James Potter coming up with the Quaffle!" He aimed his bottle at the same wall and threw it.

" _Don't call me that, you twisted fucker!_ " his friend nearly screamed, face contorted into fury. James ignored him and threw the enraged Padfoot another bottle.

"Whoa whoa _whoa_ ," Remus interrupted, going over to Sirius, who looked, quite literally, out of his mind; a few strands of his black hair were stuck to his forehead, and his grey eyes were wild, like a storm nearing its peak. "Calm down, Pads. You look like a storm ready to blow."

And suddenly he was crossing his arms, pouting. "I don't _like_ thunder."

"I know," Remus soothed. "C'mon, Padfoot, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that I have to go back to that fucking _hellhole_!" Sirius exploded, startling the other sixteen-year-old. "Why is _she_ here?" he asked suddenly.

"Lily? Good question." He turned to the fiery redhead who was staring at the situation with a mixture of exasperation and pity. "Hey, Lily, why are you here?"

"We'll share our drinks!" Sirius called, smirk back in place.

"I told you that you bastards are making a racket! Now quiet down or I'll jinx you into oblivion!" she threatened, pulling out her wand.

James was staring dreamily at her, Peter squeaked something unintelligible, and Remus opened his mouth to reassure her, but Sirius got there first.

"Try me, then!" Remus had no idea how Sirius would defend himself against Lily's jinx in this half-drunken state - no, change that to _drunken_ state - but he didn't offer any advice as he watched Lily aim her wand at him steadily.

" _C_ \--"

And suddenly Remus saw Sirius' eyes widen, and his hands shake, and the inebriated teenager curled into himself, crying, "Not _Crucio_! Anything but that, _please_!"

Lily stopped, surprised and somewhat worried, lowering her wand cautiously. "I wasn't going to do that! That's an _unforgivable spell_ , Black!"

"Sirius, Sirius," Remus whispered, sitting on the bad and pulling the teenager to him, embracing Padfoot, who was muttering incoherently, no doubt an effect of the alcohol. "Shh, Pads. Who did that to you?"

Despite her worried expression, he thought he saw a knowing smile grace Lily's features.

When Sirius looked up, his grey eyes were blank, and he scrambled backwards, away from Remus' hands. His face was a porcelain mask of indifference, but pale pink enhanced his hollow cheeks like water stains.

"No one."

Remus fixed him with a stare. "Are you lying?" But he could tell Sirius was drifting away.

" _Prop up my mortal remains_ … _nowhere to fly to_ … _still nobody home_ ," he muttered, voice soft and rough at the same time, eyes closing.

"Okay," his friend whispered gently, then turned to Lily. "Sorry about the bottles. Sirius is practically dead now so I don't think there'll be any more noise. James looks like he just passed out too." Remus rubbed his eyes. "They'll have a killer hangover tomorrow."

Lily nodded. "It's fine. They _never_ learn." And with that, she left.

Remus collapsed on Sirius' bed and fell asleep.

oOo

The first thing James noticed was his headache.

"Ow ow _ow_ ," he whined, draping his arm over his tightly shut eyes; the sun was too bright.

A hoarse whisper came from across the room, and then a clear voice cut through it. _No need to be so loud,_ James thought irritably.

"Here, mate." Someone was handing him something - a goblet. Groaning, James sat up and opened his eyes a crack, drowning whatever was in that goblet. "Hangover potion."

"…Can't remember anything," James mumbled.

"Apparently Sirius holds his alcohol better than you. At least he remembers Lily," Remus teased.

"What? Lily?" Suddenly James was wide awake. She had _come_?

"Just to inform us that we were making a racket," his friend reported.

"Tell McGonagall I'm out," James said, leaning back against his pillow once again.

"No, you are _not_ ," Remus said firmly, pulling James to his feet. "It's the last day of classes before the holidays. Besides, Sirius can't miss another day of school."

"Can we _at least_ sleep through the first classes until lunch?" James asked. " _Then_ go to the rest?"

Remus allowed that, but soon enough, their rest time was over and James woke Sirius, who quickly brushed his hair before following him down to Transfiguration.

oOo

"Potter, Black, _wake up_!"

James opened his eyes blearily and lifted his head. "Wha?"

Beside him, Sirius groaned. "We were _sleeping_ , professor."

"I'm _aware_ , Black. And what makes you think that falling asleep in my class is correct?"

"I drank like four bottles of firewhiskey last night," Sirius said. "Wait, I dunno. How many did I drink, Rem?"

"Five," Remus corrected with a glare.

"Right, five." He looked back up at McGonagall with a smirk.

"Mr Black, I cannot permit you to come to my class _half drunk_ \--"

"But I'm _not_!" he protested. "I was sleeping off a _killer_ hangover until _you_ kindly interrupted."

That was it for James. He burst out laughing, but that only increased his headache, which somehow increased his laughing. Remus glared at both of them.

"I really need to sleep this off," Sirius muttered to himself out loud and got up from his chair swiftly, walking out the classroom with a "thanks, professor!"

 **There we go, my friends! Hope you liked it! May I remind you to review? *grins sheepishly***


	9. In Which James Can’t Joke

**AN: So, hey all, I'm back. Sorry about that wait…really, truly sorry. I was caught up in RL and other stories and everything, and I send you my deepest apologies.**

 ***grins sheepishly* Did that work? Am I pardoned?**

 ***ducks as readers throw rotten vegetables***

 **Hey hey hey, I'm sorry, folks! Now before you kill me, let's move on… I'm not really in the mood for a homocide. XD**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor am I making any profit from this. *sigh***

 **Warnings: Um, let's see… child abuse?**

The train gave an odd impression of merriment, what with bright laughs and boughs of holly decorating the aisle.

James' mood was matched to the train's, and as was Peter's, but the bespectacled boy couldn't help but notice both Remus and Sirius seemed to be distant and unhappy.

Now, James wasn't the perceptive type, but he knew his friends well. And this prompted him to ask, "Festive much, you two?"

Remus shook his head. "I'm fine, just thinking."

"About what?" Peter asked.

Moony waved a hand as though it were all just a passing matter. "The full moons and everything."

 _Oh._ Without his friends to act as Animagi for him, his transformations would be more painful than usual. But James had no idea how to offer comfort, so he turned to Sirius instead. "And you, mate?"

The black-haired teenager turned from the window, grey eyes seemingly a shade darker. "Come on, Prongs, what do you think?"

James shrugged, helpless once again. _Merlin, these guys are so droopy I can't even crack a joke._

It was, unfortunately, a pretty uneventful ride home. James' spirits had been dampened slightly, and he couldn't wait to get home and be greeted by the smell of cookies and a coming Christmas. At the same time, he felt guilty as soon as that thought crossed his mind; Sirius had no welcoming home to return to. He would be greeted by a cold family and harsh words. He remembered the howlers Sirius' mother had sent in their first and second year; they were no more, but James was sure they were not erased from his friend's mother's vocabulary.

"Hey, Pads, why don't you come over for at least a week or something? I'm sure my parents would be glad to have you," James said, eyes on the despondent teenager.

"It's Christmas, Prongs," Sirius sighed. "I have to deal with the whole bloody family and they won't let me get away when all the relatives are there."

"Oh. Sorry, mate."

A shrug. James honestly couldn't interpret his friend's gestures, so he resorted to pulling out a pack of exploding snap. "Who wants to play?"

The rest of the train ride was spent with not much talking, but much more exploding. James was as content as he could be while surrounded by his friends' gloom.

So he switched back to his favorite topic: Lily. Didn't his friends see her wonderful auburn hair that glimmered like freshly fallen leaves, layered and silky? Her eyes, so smart and sweet, precious jewels, the windows to her soul? And her spirit- that beautiful fire that glowed within Lily? Didn't they see her smile, her laugh, her habits? How she took her toast in the mornings, how she pulled her hair behind her ear when she leaned over a book, how her hand scrawled delicately over parchment, leaving ink in its wake? Didn't his friends see how perfect both her flaws and strengths were? How utterly perfect _every part_ of Lily was?

"Prongs, you've been talking about Evans for one hour straight," Peter cut in.

"But do you think when she looked at me at breakfast, do you think that means she's warming up to me? She's hasn't yelled at me in like three days, Wormy!"

"How about you just give it a rest?" his friend suggested.

"What? _No!_ I _love_ her, Wormtail! I can't _give it a rest_! I _love_ her!"

"So passionate, Prongs," Sirius muttered. " _Wonderful_."

Remus smirked. "Just don't write all of your letters about her."

James shrugged, grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose from where they were slipping off. Then he noticed Sirius was staring glumly out of the window. "What is it, Padfoot?"

"We're here."

At his words, the train slowed to a stop with a sharp hoot. _Even_ that _sounds happy,_ James thought exasperatedly. "Come on, let's go," he said, then caught sight of Sirius and frowned. "Er, mate, are you stripping?"

"No," Sirius huffed irritably, yanking off his tie so ferociously it must have burnt his neck.

Panting, the teenager hauled down his trunk and opened it, stuffing the robes he had shed inside and pulling out a pair of pure black ones.

Remus was staring at Sirius with a mix of warped fascination and confusion on his face as he watched him tie his robes hurriedly and attempt to close his trunk. "Need help, Pads?"

"No."

Rolling his eyes at Sirius' stubbornness, James stepped forward and slammed his friend's trunk shut, closing it with a click.

"Thanks," Sirius muttered, then excited the compartment, leaving the other Marauders staring after him.

"Is that temper or just rush?" Remus asked, sounding bewildered, as the door in front of them rattled on its hinges.

"Dunno," James replied, then tugged down the other trunks. "Come on."

When they clambered out of the train, the three boys found Sirius standing rigidly next to his trunk, scanning the crowd. Upon seeing his parents, Peter bade goodbye and hurried toward them. Remus went next, and when Sirius and James lost sight of him, the bespectacled boy noticed his friend biting his lip anxiously.

The Potters and Blacks arrived at the same time, both casting disdainful looks toward each other. James gave a slight nod to his best mate, not wanting him to get in trouble for being friends with a "blood traitor," and headed over to his parents, where they showered him with hugs and kisses and questions.

He chanced a glance at Sirius, who he saw was bowing deeply to his father.

"Stand up," Orion snapped, and grabbed Sirius' arm roughly. James winced.

"Father--" the teenager choked out, but Orion jerked him around, slamming Sirius into the brick wall.

"Not another word, you worthless traitor," he hissed, then pulled Sirius with him as he stalked out of the station.

James cast a wide-eyed look at Sirius, opening his mouth to speak, but his friend glanced over his shoulder and shot James a meaningful glance, raising a finger to his lips. Just before he was pulled outside, Sirius gave him a small, crooked smile.

 _Bloody hell,_ James thought. _How can that bloke smile?_

oOo

Pain bit into every thought. Sirius moaned into the floor, the smell of wood filling his mouth. He rolled over onto his back, then hissed at the unexpected agony that ripped through him.

 _Dammit. I have to get up._

He rolled onto his side and threw up.

Choking on his own vomit, Sirius coughed it out. His throat burned and his stomach clenched. He had thrown up the little he had eaten over the past few days.

"Sirius," a voice muttered.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. "Reg, go away."

"You have to get off of the floor."

He looked up through his curtain of black hair to see his brother staring back at him, arms crossed but expression slightly worried. "Go. Please." _I don't want you to see me like this._

"You're lying in the middle of the living room, Sirius. They're going to find you here." Regulus vanished the vomit with a wave of his wand.

"They don't give a fuck," Sirius growled.

"And that's exactly why they punish you."

Huffing an irritated breath, the sixteen-year-old pushed himself to his feet. Swaying slightly, he grabbed onto the nearby table for support before pulling the abandoned glass of firewhiskey on it to him and drinking it in one gulp. Grinning wildly at his brother's face, Sirius stumbled up the stairs and to his room, leaving Regulus staring after him.

Humming a tune that was vaguely punk rock, he collapsed onto his bed face-down, avoiding brushing the fresh wounds against it. _Father really knows how to use that belt. I suppose it's because he's been using it for five years._

"Sirius! Sirius Black!"

He cast a glance toward the two-way mirror next to him and ignored James' voice.

"Come here, you bloody bastard! You prick, you're making me worried!"

"James, James, calm down," Sirius hissed.

"Let me see you."

"You sure you want me to do that?" he drawled, running an elegant finger over the gash on his face. When he pulled it away, it was smeared with scarlet.

"Why? Padfoot, your dad--"

"Shut up, James! Just SHUT UP!" Sirius roared. He didn't know where his sudden rage had come from, only that he was seething, teeth gritting and hands curled into his blankets.

"Sirius, just please tell me what's happening," his friend said softly.

Burrowing his face in his pillow, he let out a tiny whimper before picking his head up and taking control of his voice. "James, I'm fine, okay? I just got in this huge yelling fight with my parents and…and I just don't want to talk. I swear I'm fine, just a bit riled up. Now can you leave me alone?"

"Did he hit you?"

"Merlin, James! Can you just please leave?"

"Sirius, I need to know if he hit you!"

 _No, you don't. I don't need to be your problem._ "He didn't, James. He's never laid a hand on me, okay? I promise."

"But the station--"

 _Fuck fuck fuck._ "That was just a one-time thing. They only yell, nothing more."

"Okay," James said dubiously. "Bye, mate."

"Bye."

 **AN: …Aaaand there we go! Hope u enjoyed! Also, PLEASE REVIEW. I know you aren't inclined to, especially when I haven't updated, but it really helps keep my motivation up. And then you'll get more chappies! Thnx!**

 **Also, don't worry. THE WOLFSTAR WILL COME, MY FRIENDS!**


	10. Letters, Leather, and Lies

**AN: Update! :) So, I just read Casting Moonshadow and it is AMAZING even though I have some little problems with it/Remus' charachter. Go and read it! Just please don't abandon me for it, you guys. I live off of reviews. *Hint, hint***

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and never will.**

 **Warnings: Child abuse, swearing.**

Christmas was not a winter miracle. The world was not covered in a pristine snow and loomed over by a great white sky, nor was the Black house particularly festive.

Sirius shivered. The window to his room had been left open, practically freezing him.

Before he could move to close it, though, four owls careened into his bedroom, landing stop his ancient dresser with slight _thump_ s. Wide awake now, Sirius clambered out of bed, quickly tearing the parcels and letters off of their feet.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I forgot!" Then, to the owls: "stay here, but be quiet!" Indeed, Sirius now felt rightfully guilty. He had forgotten to send his friends letters. _Merlin, how could I?!_

But still, he felt a twinge of happiness as he looked down upon the three packages and four letters.

He went straight for James' first, tearing the letter open with haste.

 _Hey Padfoot!_

 _Happy Christmas! I hope the parents aren't giving you a hard time. Mum's taken away my broom for a week, Pads! A WEEK! And just because I burned half the kitchen down! Can you believe it?! I have to keep in shape, but she won't have any of it. Talk about unfair. What about Lily? I'm supposed to be a champion for her, Pads! She won't give me a chance if I'm not! And Lily's beautiful, she's amazing! Do you notice how her hair flutters in the wind JUST SO? How her eyes crinkle when she smiles? Her voice is so pretty, Padfoot! Oh hold on you don't want me to talk about her. Wanker. Anyways, I hope YOU do have a use for the gift. And I hope I can see you soon. Will your parents let you?_

 _Love, Prongs_

Grinning, Sirius moved onto the present. He could almost hear James' voice reading the letter. The parcel itself turned out to contain new Quidditch gloves as well as a broom compass.

 _Dear Sirius,_ Remus' read.

 _Merry Christmas! How are you? I hope your parents are treating you alright._

 _My holiday has been pretty good so far, despite my "furry little problem," as James calls it, but I'm eagerly awaiting the time when we will all return to Hogwarts._

 _I heard Prong's mum took away his broom for a week. I admittedly feel bad for him, though he did burn up half the kitchen. Mrs. Potter must have been mad that she couldn't cook her favorite biscuits!_

 _Padfoot, I gave you this gift because I hope you'll use it. It helps when you can write things out, I promise. Only one more year left in that house._

 _Please write back- James said he invited you to his house along with me and Peter. I know you said earlier that you couldn't, but maybe you could plead with your parents?_

 _Love,_

 _Remus_

Confused and slightly wary, Sirius tore the paper off of the gift his friend had given him.

 _Oh._ It was a diary. _Rubbish. I don't need this. I'm not a bloody teenage girl._

He stared at the leather-encased book, a single star burned onto the cover. _Well, thanks for the thought, Moony._ He suddenly wished he was back with his friend, sitting with him in the common room; watching the roaring fire while Remus read, his sandy brown hair flopping over his eyes as he concentrated. He wished he was with his Moony, not in this prison of memories and hurt. He yearned for Remus' every careless touch, given with so much grace; for his raised eyebrow and the tips of his mouth quirking up; for the brightness in Remus' eyes as he thought up a prank; he yearned even for the light reprimands he bestowed upon him.

But he was alone in this Hell, trapped in the dark confines of his room, wishing for a way out of the torture.

Black cloaked him, falling around his lithe frame in waves of velvet and satin, the color rich and foreboding; blank, unlike the deep, endless tinge of the night sky.

Sirius had the urge to mess up his hair just to spite his parents, but grudgingly let go of the idea and squared his shoulders, chin held high in pride that could almost be called defiance to those who knew.

Narcissa greeted him with a slight incline of her head, not friendly nor disdainful, and Bellatrix with a sneering, "Hello, _dear_ cousin of mine."

"Where's Uncle Alphard?" Sirius asked. Without Andy, who had recently been disowned, or his uncle, Sirius doubted he would even survive this family gathering.

"He was too sick to come."

 _Dammit._

He barley registered Bella's mouth moving. Instead, Sirius turned and walked away. He was once again irrationally angry, hand clenching around his wand under his cloak.

 _Think of the letters, of your friends._

Peter's had consisted of a quick _Have a great Christmas!_ and a box of sweets.

Sirius had, however, also received a letter from Lily. _Merry Christmas,_ it had said. _You're a bastard, but I'm still writing this. I just want you to know that if you need to talk, I'm always here. I know you have Remus, but Potter isn't the most intuitive person in the world. He's too much of a prick to be anything else. Tell him to give up. Lily_.

He had written back replies, telling James, Remus, and Peter he was sorry he hadn't gotten them anything but merry Christmas, as well as passing on Lily's message to Prongs. To Evans herself he had written: _Don't bother. I don't need help. I'll pass on the message, though. But you know, one of these days you should give up on your own denial. Merry Christmas, Sirius_.

After making himself invisible in the dark corners of the room and attempting to quell his anger at his family, he finally sat down for dinner.

Which he could safely say was more torturous than the previous activity.

Bellatrix was excitedly talking about the Dark Lord, Regulus sharing his report of Hogwarts, everyone blabbering on about how they had "put those filthy Mudbloods in their place."

"He has the perfect ideals," Bellatrix was gushing. "He lets us use the Cruciatus curse to torture Muggles and half-breeds, those disgusting pieces of scum."

"That's who you respect? Someone who tortures people for fun, a coward who only cares about his life and not that he's destroying millions of others'!?" Sirius' hands were shaking under the table, and his voice came out too loud, doing nothing to repress the anger growing inside him.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at him across the table. "Don't insult the Dark Lord," she hissed dangerously, lidded eyes alight with rage.

Sirius wasn't aware of standing up, only that he was shaking in fury. "Your dearest _Voldemort_ is wrong, _cousin_."

He stumbled when a rough hand pinned him to the wall by his throat.

"Don't talk about the Dark Lord like that," Orion hissed.

Sirius strained to reach his wand, but Bellatrix, who had stood up, picked it out of his pocket. "Uncle, let me," she smirked, replacing his father's hand with her own wand.

Sirius swallowed and tried to not scream when the curse came.

 _"Crucio."_

But everything was gone; he could feel nothing but white-hot knifes diving into his flesh, drawing bloodcurdling screams from someone- _who?_ \- until black burst in his vision, showering him in sparks of fire that consumed his shaking body.

Sirius burned in his own ashes.


	11. Monsters

**AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I checked for reviews this morning and found these and they really inspired me to get going and not leave you hanging again!**

 **A note to _DeadlyHuggles_ : I completely agree about Casting Moonshadows. Too bad it hasn't been updated in a while, I was getting addicted to it! Most of the angsty and long Marauder stories I have read on here haven't been updated in a while, sadly. I will check out Against the** **Moon, however, it sounds like a good- though long :)- read. And thank you for the praise! I will involve the diary in later chapters. ;)**

 **Disclaimer: Do I need to remind you after 10 chapters that I don't own Harry Potter? You know, I wonder if you could put a disclaimer in the summary and then you wouldn't have to put one every chapter.**

 **Enjoy and please review! XD**

Remus stared at Sirius' reply. His friend seemed to have made a point in attempting to discard his Copperplate habits, instead scrawling the letter in an untidy hand.

 _Dear Moony,_

 _Sorry that I didn't send you a Christmas gift. I kind of forgot._

Remus smiled slightly, but he couldn't help thinking that Sirius _never_ forgot about those things. He could forget to attend detention and forget what day it was and forget his broom on the Quidditch pitch but never before had he forgotten about his friends. Of course, the missing of the actual present didn't bother Remus; it was more of the fact that Sirius had forgotten Christmas gifts, of all things. What would make him forget to get a present for his friends? And had Sirius ever openly admitted that he had forgotten something before creating a fantastic- though admittedly unbelievable- story?

 _My family is driving me crazy but I try to stay out of the way, and that works, so I'm good. Shame that there's a Christmas party, though. I have to see Bella, and she's madder that the rest of them put together, Rem._

 _And what's this DIARY for? Moony, diaries are for teenage GIRLS who sulk in their MISERY all day LONG. Do you mind if I give it to Evans? Then she can write about Prongs and get over that bloody denial. Nah, I'm just joking. I'll keep this diary-thing, but I won't write in it, Rem. Diaries aren't punk rock._

Remus had gotten the diary in hopes that Sirius would warm up to it and use writing as a way to vent his anger at his family, which seemed unusually high this year, but no such luck- for now. Instead he was…claiming it wasn't punk rock. _Whatever "punk rock" is,_ Remus thought wryly.

 _Anyway, I've got to go now. Sadly I don't think I'll be able to go to James'. I hope the moon didn't hurt you too much._

 _Love, Padfoot_

Remus smiled softly and pulled a bottle of ink and piece of parchment toward him.

He was sitting in his room, at his desk, and Remus could hear the sounds of his mother cooking downstairs. His father was, no doubt, outside somewhere. He had taken a habit of avoiding Remus as much as possible.

 _Dear Padfoot,_ he began to write.

 _It's fine- I don't need a gift. Too bad that you couldn't go to the Potters', though. Sorry about your cousin and Christmas party._

 _Fine, Pads, if you say so. The journal- NOT diary- was just an idea. Lily would probably jinx your head off if you gave it to her, though, so don't do that. I doubt it would help James in his conquest._

 _The moon was as good as expected without the Marauders. Tell me how the party goes?_

 _Love, Moony_

oOo

 _Sirius,_

 _It's been a week since I sent my last letter. You haven't replied. Are you okay? Did I say something? Please write back, Pads._

 _Remus_

oOo

 _Hey, mate, what's happening? You haven't replied to any of my letters since Christmas. Are you okay? Write back! James_

oOo

 _Sirius, answer my letters, please! I'm worried about you. What did they do to you?_

 _Love, Remus_

oOo

When his friend approached him, head down, figure slouched and slightly limping, Remus wrapped his arms around him. "Merlin, Sirius, I thought you were dead!"

Then he looked at his friend's face and his words died.

Sirius' face was pale, paler than normal, with dark circles around his eyes. His hair was unkempt, lips dry and cracked, a bruise on his cheek. He looked exhausted.

"What happened?" Remus lifted his hand, brushing it softly against Sirius' bruise. Heart thudding, he thought of his friend's parents.

"I fell," Sirius mumbled, voice dry and tired.

"Bloody Hell, mate! What happened to you?" James yelled, running across the platform and barreling into Sirius, tearing him from Remus and coming to a stop with his hands on his shoulders, peering avidly at Sirius' face.

"James, get off of me," Sirius huffed, pushing him away. "And I fell. Down the stairs. Hit my face."

 _No. No, you didn't,_ Remus thought.

Peter, always the observant one, piped up, "And you have a cut on your throat. I don't think falls give you cuts like that, Padfoot."

Remus almost choked on the wave of pure panic that flooded his werewolf senses. Sirius was doing nothing but standing there, shying away from his friends, but the terror wafting from him was unmistakable.

The wolf he worked constantly to keep at bay rose with a low growl, mind overcoming Remus'. _Blood kill hurt kill kill kill--_

But Remus' own fierce protection rose above his counterpart's thirst for blood. _Protect kill them protect--_

" _Moony!_ Stop growling!"

He blinked and pulled himself above the wolf's thoughts, vision that had previously gone blurry restoring.

His eyes fixed on the cut, standing out sharply against the pale skin.

Remus leaped, crashing Sirius into the wall behind him, hands at the teenager's shoulders as he peered closely at the cut. It had done by a knife, no doubt. Any other means of torture could not leave a line so thin.

"Remus, get off!" Sirius' voice, slightly hysterical, brought him back to reality once more and he moved to step back.

He touched the scar with a finger, the scar raised and rough next to the smooth skin.

 _"Don't touch me!"_ And his friend pushed him off, sinking into a huddle that Remus recognized as a sort of warped submission. Remus, staggering backwards, caught his balance and stood, panting slightly, trying to avoid the other Marauders' looks of shock and reproach.

"Sorry," he whispered. "It was the wolf."

"I'm more concerned about the gash on his throat." James' voice sounded breathless.

"You great pricks! What did you do this time?"

Surprisingly, James was the one to reply to Lily Evans' shout as she marched over. "Look, Evans, we don't need more people here, so just go and stop meddling."

Remus leaned down next to Sirius. "Hey, Pads. I'm sorry."

Grey eyes found him. "'S fine," he croaked out. "Rem…I'm really tired."

"Okay. You need to get up now, Pads. We don't want to miss the Hogwarts Express."

A shaky, pale hand reached up and grasped the sleeve of Remus' cloak. "Don't go, Moony," he mumbled.

Remus' heart gave a fierce tug. "I won't," he said, and pulled Sirius off off of the ground, wrapping an arm around the other's waist so he wouldn't fall.

Lily hexed James, who promptly stopped yelling at her and began clutching his head, looking horrified. She shot Remus a small smile, to which he offered an apologetic grimace and to which Sirius responded to by flipped her the bird.

"C'mon, Sirius," Remus urged, but the teenager's breathing was slowing.

James was still staring at the retreating Lily. "How did you get a smile and I didn't?"

"To be fair, mate, you were yelling at her," Peter reasoned.

"Dammit, she'll never look at me again!"

"James, shut up and help me get Sirius onto the train!"

"Sorry, Moony," he huffed, taking the Animagus' trunk in one hand and his in the other.

When the Marauders finally sat down on the train, Sirius immediately curled up in the seat closest to the window and closed his eyes. Remus opened his book, but he was stealing glances at Sirius more than reading. Peter was subject to James' Transfiguration practice, as he ended up with different colored eyebrows and hair as well as a very long, hook-like nose and sallow face.

"Hey, don't make me look like Snivellus! Take it off! Take it off?"

Sirius opened his eyes and curled more into himself with a soft groan.

Remus rested a hand on his forehead, surprised when Sirius was too sick to pull away. "You're burning up."

Sirius muttered something, but barely any noise reached Remus' ears.

"Sirius, who did this to you?" He moved closer and put an arm around the shaking teenager's shoulders.

"Dark," he mumbled. "Monsters, Rem, monsters…waitin' for me."

"What was dark?" Remus whispered.

"Hurt. Locked…dark…" And then he fell silent, breathing evening out, a fire still burning in his forehead.

"Is he okay?"

Remus sighed, biting his lip. "No, James, he's really not. His parents- I'm guessing- hurt him and locked him somewhere dark where there may or may not have been monsters."

"Parents?" James said weakly.

"What do you mean?" Peter squeaked.

"I'm guessing- and it's probably accurate- that Sirius is being abused."


	12. Anything to End the Awkwardness

**AN: Sorry it's been a while. I've been busy with school and all that rubbish. So, my apologies and…hope you don't mind that this chapter's a little bit short. Enjoy the angst! XD Oh, and pls REVIEW! Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, it really inspires me to get them!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I had some polyjuice potion and acquired wonderful writing skills, then…I might have a chance. But still…I don't own that stuff, so…may have to borrow it…**

The blur of colors were the only things that stood out in this word of hazy, pounding fatigue and pain.

A haze of grey as sharp as his own eyes, and for a long time all he could see was dull red, patterns shifting into a fog of cold.

Burning heat left him shivering in the wake of those black smudges; then that pure, golden amber that was hovering in front of him for a fleeting second.

The colors hurt.

He wasn't used to so much light, not after weeks of being locked in the dark, monsters creeping up on him with their beady grey eyes alight and their crazed laughter sneaking into his dreams.

The smudges of color disappeared before he snapped his eyes open again, afraid of the dark they held.

But it hurt too much to deny the black nothingness.

oOo

"James, please stop pacing."

"Dammit, Remus, he's been out two full days!"

 _That long? Merlin, what have I missed? And what happened? I'm not home anymore…_

Open his sleep-sticky eyes, Sirius swiped his tongue over his dry lips. "Where 'm I?"

Three slightly-blurry faces, all both concerned and excited, peered at him.

"You're in the hospital wing, Padfoot. You were burning up on the train so we took you here. What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Memories were returning that Sirius would rather not have; endless time waited out in a dark, musty cellar; screams of pain that he didn't even recognize as his own.

"What did they do to you?" Remus pressed. "They hurt you."

"Who?" _Play dumb, play dumb. What happens in the Black house stays in the Black house._

"Your parents."

Sirius nearly choked on his own panic, feeling himself tremble. His heart pounded in his throat, every breath shuddering in a warped relief and pure terror."No, they don't." Had he said it too fast? Could they hear his pounding heart? _Emotionless, cold…turn your face into a mask._

His friends' faces didn't lose their worried expressions.

"They never laid a hand on me," he insisted, trying to quell the tremor in his voice. " _Never_."

"How about a wand?" James asked shrewdly.

Sirius shook his head vigorously, then stopped as a jolt of pain shot through it.

The devastated look in Remus' eyes almost made him bellow the truth, but that would render a fatal blow to all of them; Sirius Black did not fall. He was incapable of falling. Because once he fell, his weight would make the others crumble beneath him.

"Then why are you so sick?" James persisted. "Then why did they lock you in a fucking room?!"

Remus caught Sirius' hand as it flew up to scrub at his face, heat spreading from where the deft fingers curled around his wrist, breath catching in his throat from the simple contact. The coldness was gone, replaced by warm, sparking flames. "James, leave it alone." Remus' voice seemed a pitch lower, uttered softly, almost like a purr.

James' huff made Sirius look up once again. "When did Madame Pomfrey say you could leave?" he asked, abruptly changing subjects.

"T-Today," Sirius muttered, shame spreading across his cheeks like rippling wind skimming the surface of the Great Lake at his stutter. He _didn't stutter_ for Merlin's _sake_.

"Okay," James said, seeming slightly lost.

With a slight blush Sirius pulled his hand away from Remus', who hastened to stick his in his pocket.

"How about Wizard Chess?" Peter piped up. "I brought my set."

 _Anything to end the awkwardness._ "Good idea, Wormy." He fought to keep his voice even.

The little boy beamed and pulled out the game. "D'you want to play against me?"

Sirius nodded despite being positive that he was going to fall asleep before he made a single move. However, though he did not fall asleep, Sirius was loosing rather spectacularly against a jubilant Peter.

"My Chess tutors must be screaming at me from Heaven," Sirius murmured, voice slurring slightly, frowning tiredly over the board.

"Why Heaven?" Remus asked the same time as James said, "You had Chess tutors?"

"Oh yeah. Then Mum threw 'em out- the most horrific shrieks she had let out in days, mind you- and probably blasted a few spells in their direction too. That most likely killed them one way or another," he added.

Remus tapped him gently on the shoulder and Sirius automatically froze, cringing slightly. He was relieved when his friend didn't press the matter, only whispered what his next Chess move should be.

Sirius ended up loosing to a gleeful Peter and drifting off as his friends played. Before sleep had fully overcome him, he eyed them- Peter concentrating, James grinning slightly, Remus watching passively- and felt his heart twist. They knew, and he could tell in the harsh worry lines that formed in their faces when they weren't busy trying to laugh. They knew and Sirius knew his friends wouldn't let it go.


	13. Living, Convincing

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP.**

 **AN: I can't say anything but I'm sorry.**

Sirius was restless.

By the second day of hospitalization, he was already squirming to get out. Not all of it was due to the fact that he was essentially trapped in the hospital wing- in fact, most of it was because of the glances he received.

Some were from Madame Pomfrey- that interfering, meddling witch!- as she asked him if he had eaten at all recently or if his household was, in her words, "toxic."

 _Well of course it's bloody toxic! It's full to the brim with death eaters, for Merlin's sake!_

Yet a particular examination rendered him tired for the following hours; he had been forced to cast a glamour charm over himself, which drained him rather shockingly. Madame Pomfrey had been going to check him over and he was terrified that she would discover the scars littering his body.

But the truly unbearable glances shot at him were those belonging to Sirius' friends. Remus' eyes would follow him, worry clear in the amber orbs, and it gave Sirius a deep ache. If only his friend didn't know- if only he wouldn't look at Sirius like that- if only Remus would've remained content and oblivious…but instead Sirius guiltily watched the werewolf stress over him, unable to quell his friend's concern.

Peter's were nervous and fearful, but it was James' watching eyes that made Sirius want to slam his fist onto the nearest table and scream that _he wasn't vulnerable_ and to _stop looking at him like that_. For James' gaze never left him; he stared like a hawk, his eyes haunted yet fierce.

And it was thus that Sirius concocted a plan.

It wasn't marvelous, he had to admit. It wasn't stunning or shocking or hilariously funny, but it would serve its purpose.

On the morning he was released from the hospital wing, Sirius went straight to Charms, skipping the last five minutes of breakfast in the Great Hall- he was hungry, no doubt, but the mere thought of food made him recoil in shame. He hadn't swallowed anything but water this for the past few weeks, and he wanted to keep it like that.

 _"You aren't allowed to eat food, you filthy traitor. Traitors are cowards; you don't deserve to eat."_

 _Orion leaned in closer to Sirius, who was pinned to the wall. His breath was hot on Sirius' gasping throat._

 _"You don't deserve to live, do you?"_

Sirius stumbled back against a wall, trying to shake his father's face from his mind. _I don't deserve to eat. I don't deserve to live._

 _Shut up, shut up. Remember the plan!_

Attempting to ground himself once more, Sirius stood up with a shaky exhale.

"Hey, Sirius!"

He jerked around, arm snapping up to shield his face from the blow that was sure to come.

"Um…are you okay?"

Sirius lowered his arm as Lily came into view, clutching a handful of books, bag slug over her shoulder. Auburn locks spilled over pale arms, brows furrowed in slight bewilderment.

"Fine," he snapped. "So what did you follow me for?"

She blinked, but then continued, not at all undeterred by his brisk statement. "You were in the hospital wing. Were you sick?"

"Dragon Pox. Madame Pomfrey says I'm still contagious."

Her unbelieving raised eyebrow said it all. "Well, since you obviously aren't going to answer truthfully, do you want to want to Charms together?"

"Not interested, Evans," he deadpanned.

"Of course." She waved her hand over her shoulder nonchalantly and set off at a steady pace. "You've got your eye on Remus."

To this Sirius spluttered indignantly, halting sharply. "I have _not_ , you-you insane _thing_!"

Lily grinned complacently. "Don't worry. You're secret's safe with me."

"I-I have _not_ got a _crush_ on _Moony_!"

"Your beet red cheeks beg to differ," Lily drawled.

"You're having way too much fun torturing me," Sirius huffed. "And _lying_ ," he added pointedly.

"I'm more worried about who was actually torturing you."

Gone was the amusement and light tones; all that was left was Sirius' heart fluttering in his chest and his pale fingers curling into his robes and tensing shoulders and the world that seemed to narrow into a curtain of auburn flames and green hues and _fuck no the faded green on the tapestry he was shoved in front of, a knife pressed to his throat, growling words echoing in his head and all he was was a terrified heart struggling to give life to a broken body stop please stop-_

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. You're okay, Sirius."

He couldn't concentrate, couldn't formulate words when so many others were crowding him into a tiny closet with walls that sunk into themselves.

 _Weak. Scum. Coward._

"Don't, don't," he managed. _Don't get close; don't tell. Don't hurt me; don't leave._

"I know your parents did it to you, Sirius. You have a cut on your throat." Lily's voice pierced through the haze of bubbling panic. "It's okay, I won't tell."

"Don't let them see me," Sirius breathed, realizing his eyes were closed and making a deliberate effort to open them.

"I won't, I won't. The hallway's empty, Sirius," Lily said.

He could see that now, and Sirius allowed himself to relax against the wall. "Go away."

"Sirius, that's not--"

"Please."

Her eyes were apprehensive.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine."

When the girl didn't move he sighed and crossed his arms, fixing his face into an exasperated scowl to hide his shame.

"You don't have to put on that mask, Sirius," Lily whispered finally.

He made a sudden movement, jerking forward and grabbing her wrist tightly.

Fear and shock raging on her face, Lily stumbled backwards. "W-What?"

"Don't tell anyone." Sirius spoke carefully, slowly. "Don't tell and leave me alone."

Releasing her and leaving the girl to follow him to their next class, he turned and headed to Charms, casting a small glamour charm to cover the scar on his throat as he did.

"Hey mate, where were you?" James called from where he was sitting, his legs casually propped up on the top of his desk.

"Took the long way here," Sirius replied casually, taking the seat between James and Remus.

"Legs off the desk, Mr. Potter," Flitwick ordered.

James raised an eyebrow but complied, giving a loud fake yawn as he did.

Flitwick's glare was lost amongst bushy eyebrows.

Sirius was too busy focusing all of his energy into preparing to cast the correct charm to bother paying even the slightest attention to his professor as Flitwick began to talk. He did notice, however, that the short man had begun to write on the board. Grinning as he saw his chance, Sirius muttered the first spell under his breath and then, with a complicated series of jerks preformed by his wrist and a whispered word, uttered the second as well.

The students, many of whom were staring blankly at their professor, instantly straightened, eyes wide until they gave into muffled giggles and choked-back laughs. A few cried out and Lily Evans said sharply, "Professor, your board!"

Flitwick turned around, confused, but the words appeared the same to him as they had before.

Except now everyone besides him could see the letters rearranging themselves, flashing in an obnoxious rainbow as they did. Before their eyes, _concentration on the goal_ twisted into entirely different words: _I look like a baboon's backside_.

Fighting back the wave of sudden dizziness that threatened to engulf Sirius, he smirked at a loudly guffawing James.

"Merlin, Padfoot!" his friend laughed, all trace of worry gone in his eyes.

But Remus caught his eyes for a fraction of a second, holding his own deeply before breaking away.

He knew why Sirius had done it- to convince James he was okay.

That sideways glance made him bite his lip- it hurt more than being slammed against the floor did.

 **AN: I really am sorry. I was just stuck with a writers block and I always have loads of homework and I wasn't able to get my creative juices flowing. Sorry. Thank you to all of my reviewers, PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE I CANT LIVE WITHOUT THEM.**


	14. Of Pain

**Disclaimer: if you still think I own HP then you'd better take a little trip to St Mungo's.**

 **WARNINGS: TRIGGER WARNINGS, CUTTING, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND WHATEVER ELSE I CAN'T REMEMBER ON THE TOP OF MY HEAD NOW.**

 **AN: Again I must apologize for leaving you hanging, but don't worry, I'm back on track again! And thank you so much reviewers! Oh and I'm on like chapter 60 of Against the Moon…it is _amazing_! Such long chapters, suck beautiful friendship…GO READ IT NOW! XD**

 **A note to** ** _DeadlyHuggles:_ Naw, I won't leave you for years. I'd feel too guilty, so you're safe there! **

**A note to _Potato Personal_ : Thank you! Depressing is what I try for. ;)**

With a start he awoke, Sirius trying to control his breathing, clutching the blankets so hard he couldn't feel his hands. A wave of hate washed over him and he dug his nails into his wrists on impulse, the pain soothing him.

Sirius got up, desperately searching for something, _anything_. He grasped an empty potions bottle and stumbled to the bathroom, closing the door securely behind him.

The glass fell, shattered, aching downward with Sirius' fury.

 _Traitor._

He stabbed his wrist with a shard, relishing the burning pain.

 _Filth._

Scarlet ran down his arm in little rivulets, forming a spidering cobweb of agony.

 _Pathetic._

He cut open his pale skin with the sharp, clear glass.

 _Coward._

Blood slid between his fingers and he dropped the glass, his head falling back against the wall. He closed his eyes, his wrist stinging.

He was only a heart pumping mindlessly, striving to continue for no reason. And suddenly he wanted to tear that out of his chest, render his body the same pain as his mangled mind. Wanted to dig his fingers into his flesh, scream that he was alone, that he was only a half-alive corpse. He yearned to shatter into a million pieces, to break like the glass bottle that had hit the ground with a echoing _crack_. That was all he needed. A _crack_.

Because he was empty. He was _nothing._

oOo

After cleaning the blood, he headed down to the Quidditch pitch and ran back, forth, back, forth.

When he was finished, Sirius stopped, out of breath. For a moment, the world spun, but he quickly rightened himself and headed up to the castle.

Sirius sat down in his favorite chair by the fire when he reached the common room and started to work on his homework, forcing himself to stay awake.

 _I can't go to sleep. I'll just have more nightmares. I can't sleep._

He turned to his book once more. _The Draught of Living Death brings upon the drinker a very forceful sleep that can last immeasurably_. He scratched down a few sentences with his quill. _When prepared correctly, the potion will appear a pale lavender..._

"Sirius."

Sirius' head shot up to see Remus watching him. "Oh, hi."

"Are you okay?"

 _Time to put up my mask._ He smiled easily. "Of course. I'm just getting my potions essay done since it's due today. What are you doing up this early, Moony?"

Remus shrugged and sat down next to him. "I just woke up, don't know why."

Sirius nodded and returned to his essay, but being aware of his friend's eyes watching him he found he couldn't concentrate. Remus' gaze was slightly unnerving and Sirius coughed loudly. The teenager hastily looked away, leaving him inexplicably glad that he had played a prank yesterday- James had reverted to his usual carefreeness, and even Peter seemed assured that he was all right again. However, the relief that had been left in its wake was short-lived, he now realized; Remus was aware that he was breaking, and he wouldn't fall for any tricks.

Sirius' friend watched him as he elegantly formed the copperplate letters, hand brushing against the piece of alabaster parchment, staining pure white with the dark ink drawn by his own hand.

 **AN: sorry it was so short, but I hoped you liked it! Review, please!**


	15. How To Breathe

**AN: I'm sorry for not updating in a while, and that this chapter is pretty bad, but I just had to get this story updated. Thank you so much to all my wonderful reviewers you reminded me that this story was not a lost cause. I probably won't post in November because I'll be doing YWP (young writers program) NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and 333 words a day for 30 days doesn't seem like a lot but it's going to take up all my writing time. I recommend you try out NaNoWriMo, I did it last year and it's really fun. Now, on with the story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own HP.**

 **Warnings: child abuse, trigger warning, suicidal thoughts/actions, depression.**

He could barely remember how to breath. For how was breathing possible when his own emptiness had sunk on him like a great stone, it's strength to powerful to even try to resist?

Sirius fumbled for his cigarettes, hand picking one out of his box and sticking it into his mouth. He clicked on the Muggle lighter with a tiny sigh, iridescent flame shaking in his hand before he inhaled it.

"Sirius," a voice said softly.

Please, leave me alone.

Silence replied to Remus' call.

"You shouldn't smoke."

The words held so much more than a mere reprimand. "Okay." Sirius was too tired to say anything else.

"You have a Quidditch game in half an hour."

Too empty to muster a single swear.

"C'mon, Pads."

"Tell James I'm busy."

The words sounded ridiculous, even to his ears. Busy…sure, busy laying in bed on a Saturday morning.

"They have no one to replace you with, Sirius," Remus was urging.

Smoke and nicotine soothed his frustration. "Don't." He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling softly. "Won't." Have I lost my voice? "Go."

"Can I open your curtains?"

Too irrationally exhausted to resist… to exist.

Sunlight attacked him, quick and sharp, like a hissing snake drawing back from its prey.

"Rem."

"Sirius, please come downstairs. We have less than half an hour until the match starts." A warm hand fell on his, the one that was fumbling with the cigarette. It brushed his lips ever so slightly.

Sirius wondered if he was physically capable of getting up.

oOo

Later, they would call it a good game. Excellent flying conditions, players at their best, won with more than double the Ravenclaw's points.

But Sirius had to disagree.

He felt like shit.

Black hair flying in his face, grey eyes struggling to make out anything, hands gripping the broomstick so tightly he thought they would break. Sirius was tired and felt ill and really really really hated Quidditch.

 _"Phillip Chang is approaching the Gryffindor goalposts!"_ Frank Longbottom shouted into his microphone.

His sigh a mere cloudy exhale, Sirius dove clumsily, reaching out for the Quaffle he caught by the tips of his fingers.

"Potter!" he roared, seething.

"Calm down, Sirius," James yelled back as he approached.

"Then get this thing away from me." He pushed the red ball towards his friend.

"Merlin, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed," James scoffed.

 _"Potter and Black seem to be talking. Why the hold up, boys?"_ Frank commented. Both paid him no mind.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "What do you think? I don't want to be playing Quidditch with you wankers."

"You _arse_! That's no reason to not even _try_!" James' face was alight with rage, glasses glinting in the sunlight.

"I caught the Quaffle, didn't I? Isn't that what you wanted?" Sirius felt his temper rise inexplicably. " _Bastard_!"

"I can't _believe_ you!" his friend shouted.

"Fuck off and go find Lily to pester," Sirius hissed.

The dull pain made him recoil, pull back and round his shoulders into himself. Panic forced him to freeze, his entire body anticipating another blow.

 _"Now that was unexpected. Potter punched Black in the face and now- he's off! Potter passes the Quaffle to McKinnion- McKinnon going for the Ravenclaw goal- she's surrounded! But no, there comes Potter- McKinnion passes to Potter- Potter scores! Ten points to Gryffindor! That was a wonderful pass from McKinnion…"_

Frank's voice drew Sirius out of his paralyzation. Cursing under his breath, he bitterly flew back to the center goalpost. He cast a quick glance to the seats- Peter was chewing nervously on his nails, Remus' entire body stiff and attentive.

 _Moony, get me out of here._

But his plea fell on thin air and he saw nothing but James' furious face when he let the Quaffle slide neatly into Gryffindor left goalpost.

After what seemed like an eternity, his friend yelled for him to _come down, you bastard, the game's over!_ to which Sirius heeded, ignoring his team's cries for him to wait as he trudged into the locker room.

Locking himself inside, Sirius quickly shed his robes. Suddenly he wanted to strip himself bare of the rough wind and James' yells and his own heavy heart. Sirius furiously tore off his shirt, wanting to tear out the scars that lined his body like ragged, patched stitches where there had once lay smooth skin. He yearned to open the old wounds, shred himself to pieces, let his own despair pour out the body that had tried so hard to conceal it. The scars made him livid.

He traced one running across his hip, a fracture in the pale oasis that had once been his skin. Sirius could remember the night he had gotten it vividly. The sky had been cloaked in obsidian, pouring shocks of rain down onto the grimy streets of London where Sirius had stood in his parlor, jaw clenching instinctively.

 _Orion's eyes were as dark as the storm raging outside their windows. "You thought foolishly hanging a banner in your room would make you a rebel?" His voice was low, but it made Sirius tense; standing in front of him was a predator, it's fangs bared and its body shifted into attack position._

 _He didn't open his mouth._

 _"Traitor."_

 _Fear clawed at his heart's door. Sirius couldn't speak._

 _The ringing silence burst. "Answer, you fucking coward!"_

 _Pain hit him, deep and heavy and stinging._

Sirius' hands found the deep lashes scored into his chest.

 _The words were still echoing in the house when all that could be heard was the slap as leather hit skin._

Please, please, let it be over. _Sirius trembled beneath the agony that wracked his body. Let it all end._

 _But then cold metal hit him, drawing back along his bare skin and leaving a trail of flickering scarlet._

 _Screams joined the dark chuckling._

And then his hands were clawing at his throat, fumbling in their effort to rid himself of the thin scar that shone stark against his neck.

 _"How dare you ask to get out of this house? You don't deserve anything. You pitiful excuse for a human."_

 _The knife pressed against his neck. Out of the corner of his eye Sirius could see a drop of crimson blood stain his shirt._

 _"You don't deserve to live. You know that, don't you?"_

 _Sirius' breathing was hitched, his throat pulsing as a metal blade was pressed against it. His hand batted weakly at the knife, fingers slipping on the blade. Pain burst in his wrist as it hit the sharp silver. Red swam in his vision._

 _But_ _Orion had grabbed hold of his wrist, examining the cut almost curiously. Then he looked up, and his face was twisted into a sneer. "Next time, do it properly."_

 _The knife dug into his throat and Sirius heard no more._

He felt like he was splitting apart, his harsh breaths testimony of his agony.

Sirius wanted to tear his scars out, but instead he pulled a piece of glass out of his fallen robes' pocket and added one more.

 _"Next time, do it properly."_

He screamed into his skin.


	16. Remus’ Demolition

**AN: sorry, everyone. I put this story aside for about two months...not the best decision. I don't have much else to say so...enjoy, I guess? And sorry. The chapters are kinda always short and bad. I kinda failed at this whole fanfiction thing...but thank you all so much for the reviews and for putting the story on alert.**

 **Disclaimer: don't own HP. Trust me on this one.**

 **Trigger warnings: anxiety attacks (I guess), pain, mentioned child abuse...yeah.**

"I'll meet you there," Remus called over his shoulder. His bones were grating together, stiffening his joints and making his teeth grit together in an effort to relieve the pain.

The hissing anxiety that had flooded his aching tendons only grew sharper as the stress of the full moon drew ever closer. Weighing in the back of his mind lay a name, filling his chest with a pressing worry. Sirius.

By the time he reached Madam Pomfrey Remus was finding it hard to breathe. She guided him out the castle's doors, the chilly wind forcing his muscles to tense. Remus dropped his head, neck stretching forwards, and he squeezed his lips tightly, trying to hold in a wolflike pant. Pain blossomed in his fingers, only spurring his anxiety—he could transform here, not until he was locked away like he ought to be—

"I can go from here," Remus said, tone edged with roughness. "Th-thank you."

"Not at all, dear. I'll be here in the morning—and the best of luck to you, Remus."

He ducked into the tunnel, falling to his knees, letting a growl escape his jaws where no one could hear him. His fingers dug into the hard dirt like claws, pebbles digging into his palms.

"Sirius," Remus sobbed aloud, word a raspy, dry breath, no tears blurring his vision yet agony spread through his chest as he scrambled desperately forwards.

When he collapsed onto the hardwood floor all fight left him; he brought his fingers up to his lips, wetness oozing from the raw skin. The sweet scent of fresh blood seeped into his mouth and he felt his skin split at the seams, bones cracking into shards of what he once had been, and Remus screamed.

It had twisted viciously into an echoing, tortured howl before it was swallowed by the sky's empty wails.

oOo

Guilt.

Soft light brown strands, spilling over pale lips.

A scar traced down the pale cheek.

A wisp of innocence, ravaged by the darkness that had consumed Sirius himself.

His hands felt tainted, as though blood spilled over the arches of his knuckles.

Sirius lowered his head. His lips grazed Remus' hand.

Get away, get away. You'll only hurt him more.

He wished he could heal the wounds he had traced onto the gentle, giving skin.

"Sirius?"

His blood wasn't his own; it glistened as dark as his family's.

It belonged to them. For nothing could be Sirius'; all he had was a hollow shell of a person, clutching a fallen angel as though he would take away his demons.

"Sirius, what are you doing?"

"Remus." His voice was empty, his skin so hot. Burning as if it held the inferno itself. He wondered if he was still alive.

I can't do this.

"He's going to be okay," James said, but his voice was cautious, measured. The unfamiliarity made Sirius' heart jump, beat a little faster. He didn't see the point of having it anymore if all it did was pound in his throat as if anticipating the death Sirius would bring about it.

"I hurt him." He suddenly felt almost like crying.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Sirius cringed away; James pulled back. "He does this every month, Padfoot. C'mon, mate, it's not your fault." His voice held the whisper of a plea.

I don't need pity. Breaths slid past Sirius' lips, heavy and scorching. He tried to make them small, nonexistent. His lungs ached.

Remus' eyes fluttered, and Sirius tore his hands away from the fingers that were sleepily curling around his wrist. He was suddenly so afraid; I never wanted to hurt him! I can't—I can't touch him. I mustn't!

He was deaf to the calls that followed him out the door and up the stairs. Sirius was running, tripping; his fingers grasped at marble stairs and for a moment all he wanted was to sink into the cold floor, let it envelop his heat and render him blissfully unaware.

But he pulled himself up with the banister, cursed his trembling body, his teeth digging into his lip; the pain was a reprimand, a relief.

He stopped only when he saw that someone else was sitting primly on his bed, her red hair tossed over her shoulder and her eyebrows raised in a way so similar to Remus' that the hollow shell he stared out of gave a painful ache.

"Get off my bed, Evans. I don't give free shags."

She stands up, says "I'm not asking for a shag, Sirius. I want to talk to you."

He eased himself onto his bedcovers. "I'd rather not." His voice was slipping into clipped tones of aristocracy; he was losing control. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut.

"What's going on?" Lily said. The murmur of comfort made him shiver; he felt made of glass.

"I don't...I don't know," he muttered. "I don't know what the point is anymore." He was trapped in his own mind, claustrophobia closing around him like the walls of the closet his parents had once thrown him into.

"What's the letter?" Sirius croaked. His eyes had fixed on a burnt scrap of paper clutched in Lily's hand—anything to distract himself from his own thoughts.

"My sister's letter."

"You don't like her?" It was barely a question.

"It's complicated."

Then: "Your parents hurt you?"

"It's complicated." He gave her a small grin. Unsure if it was fake.

Her returning smirk eased some of the tension in his chest. Sirius clutched at the collar of his shirt, fingers sliding the buttons loose. His head dropped in a ragged pant; trying to breathe. Fingers fluttering up to press at his throat, his heartbeat shivering beneath them, he closed his eyes.

I hurt him I hurt him I hurt him.

"Could you go?" Weak, pleading words.

Lily stood up, walked out of the dormitory. Sirius was left alone. All the had was the guilt settling in him, looming into emptiness.

 **AN: here I am again... Review, please! I love all you and thanks for keeping this story alive :) and sorry.**


	17. A Coward’s End (James Thought, Shit)

**AN: thank you all so, so much for the reviews! Honorable mentions go to RavenclawIrene, DeadlyHuggles and MetallicGirl XD. I know it's super soon for another update but I was inspired, so here it is. Honestly I didn't mean for this chapter to get so intense, let's just leave it at "writing is therapeutical." I would have edited this more but at a point I was just like this is too much. Enjoy (if that's possible)!**

 **Disclaimer: don't own, sorry. Go find Queen Rowling.**

 **MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS: cutting, death/death of loved one, suicidal thoughts/actions, suicide attempt. A hint of slash.**

James was astonished. Mouth hanging open, eyes popping out like a bullfrog's, spoon suspended halfway to his mouth, from which egg was slowly dripping down into his lap.

Lily Evans had told Remus to nudge closer to Sirius, promptly sitting down in the seat the teenager had vacated, swinging her legs over the bench and striking up a conversation as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Peter tapped him on the arm and pointed to his spoon. James snapped his mouth shut and nodded smartly. A guy could always count on Peter to catch his mistakes before the girl of his dreams did.

"How are you?" she was asking Remus.

He responded with a smile and a few words of casual small talk; ignoring her slight grin when she saw Sirius lean into him with a muffled complaint about it being too cold.

James, for once, was much too fascinated by Lily to muster greetings. Her hair swished while she talked, tilting her head and ducking it as she laughed, eyes scrunching up as she grinned. Even when her forehead creased in irritation, gaze growing sharper, James couldn't get over how cute she was, fiery temper and all.

Post came, and he jumped up to receive his package from home. As much as he hated to admit it, James loved to read his parents' letter and unwrap the parcels they sent him—excitement bubbled in him as he tore it from the owl's leg. The bird promptly dove into the bacon on James' plate; he didn't bother chasing it off, merely laughed. James quickly read the letter, smiling at his mother's loopy script, before unwrapping the sweets and handing a handful to Sirius; but the boy turned away, huddling even more into Remus' shoulder.

Confused, James glanced down at his friend's empty plate. _"Padfoot."_ Remus met his eyes, concern wreathing though the amber orbs, and snaked an arm around Sirius' shoulders.

"Why aren't you eating?" he demanded, words bursting out of him like flames tipped by lashing sparks, bursting into color—"fireworks", Muggles called them. "You can't just _starve_ yourself!"

Out of the corner of his eye James saw Lily look at him with a slightly puzzled, slightly proud expression on her face, but deciding he would never decipher it, he turned back to face Sirius.

"I'm not hungry." _Why does he sound so tired?_

"Eat or it's Madame Pomfrey for you," Remus added firmly, serving Sirius some eggs. "C'mon, Pads."

He made a show of how much he hated the school nurse, grumbling and loudly proclaiming he was perfectly healthy and that _you idiots don't know anything_ , and ended up only eating a quarter of what Remus had dumped onto his plate.

James was too busy trying to talk to Lily without losing his mind—she smiled so much it made him dizzy with warmth—that he barely noticed that breakfast had ended until Peter physically pulled him out of his stupor and forwards class.

"See you!" he called to her, still dazed, a grin plastered onto his face.

"Bye, James."

 _She called me James!_ Adrenaline rushed through his veins, heating the tips of his fingertips, making them thrum with life.

 _"Mr. Potter, pay attention!"_

He was jerked out of his thoughts harshly, but merely grinned up at McGonagall. "Yep!" She eyed him critically, but turned back around, pointing her wand at the board.

The window flew open with a bang, an owl careening into the classroom with a whoosh of wind, slowing down abruptly to alight on Sirius' desk. It's feathers were a glossy black, ruffling indignantly as he hastily snatched the letter and ripped it open.

He watched Sirius' hands tremble ever so slightly, watched his shoulders shiver, mouth reach for breath not there.

James thought, _shit._

oOo

Death. The unexplained, the eternal nothingness. A void of empty space so many pretended was layered with whispering voices, voices seeping into heavy velvet cloth that lined so many Black family coffins.

The only person who had supported him, told his own brother to stop for Sirius' sake, taught him that no person was better than another.

Uncle Alphard had been stolen by the unspeakable. By the silence so many fanthomed into hushed words.

It crashed. A crescendo splintering into a thousand sparks of broken glass. Stopped. Silence.

Too much quiet for Sirius to bear; he gripped the parchment in his hands as though he could shatter the nothingness ringing in his ears like a Muggle disc cracking, stuttering over the same letters.

 _Okay…okay…okay…_

"Whoa, whoa, it's _okay_. Sirius, look at me," a murmur soothed him.

His breath rattled in his chest, trapped. The world was moving, choppily clattering around him—but Sirius was locked in his mind, caged within iron bars that felt as familiar as Remus' voice.

McGonagall was moving towards him, students leering into him. And suddenly, in a cacophony of rising screams, millions of thoughts flitting through his mind, Sirius stood. His heart leaped in his throat and he suddenly felt so afraid, vulnerable, stripped of protection. Throat so choked, bile rising in his mouth—he couldn't let them see.

Remus caught him by the arms, steadying him, but Sirius jerked away from the worried face, pulling his bag over his shoulder and turning towards the door. For a moment, the world quieted, sounds covered by the thin layer of glass Sirius walked on.

He took refuge in the first abandoned classroom he saw, pulling the door closed and leaning against the wall, sliding down to the ground.

Maybe if he could hear those voices—maybe then he wouldn't hear his own.

 _You left me. Why don't you want me? What did I do?_

He latched onto the fury like a dying man, stranded in desert with waves of fire bearing upon him, reaching for water.

 _How dare you leave me!?_

Sirius' fumbling fingers met a hard leather spine. He yanked it out of his bag, ripping open the diary and pressing his quill, flooding with ink, into the first molten page.

 _you left_

Ink splattered as he wrote the two words, quill screeching around the looping letters.

 _you left you left_

Sirius shook with a scream, silent and unanswering.

The quill caught the corner of a scar, tearing open his wrist when he jerked his hand back wildly. Crimson and ink swirled on his pale skin, writhing against each other, staining his hands with black blood.

 _i'm dying_

He pulled back from the diary. Stared at his wrist. How many cuts would it take? Sirius shakily raised the quill over his arm, closing his eyes for a moment.

He recalled, dimly, thinking of his last thought when he was younger. Surely it would be a valiant promise to defeat some enemy, a vow of unending bravery.

But there was nothing left.

No last thoughts. No valiant death. Simply a coward's end.

He plunged the quill into his flesh, relished the pain; the end of pain, at last.


	18. Tender Agony

**NA: It's been a while, hope you don't hate me too much. I had some trouble getting into character and was quite busy. And the attempted fluff/Marauders-hanging-out didnt really work, but oh well. Enjoy anyways.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am obviously not making any money for writing this crap. I'm doing it out of loyalty to my wonderful readers. Sort of.**

 **Warnings: Um, mentioned suicide attempt, dark themes, blood, stuff like that. Good luck reading.**

Wetness streaked down his cheeks, meeting his lips with the sting of salt. Remus wiped them with the back of his hand, then reached out to shakily touch Sirius' face. His friend's eyes cracked open, took a glance at the world before closing them once more, as if he couldn't bear the sight of the world staring back at him.

Trying not to gag at the heavy stench of blood, Remus reached with trembling fingers for the quill embedded in Sirius' wrist. He stifled a sob when he yanked on the feather, then chastised himself. He wasn't the one who had tried to commit suicide, yet here he was, weeping like a child.

Sirius' head, thrown back against the wall, jerked forwards, lids splitting open, leaving grey orbs lingering behind them.

"You-You almost killed yourself." Remus' words were choked.

"I was...supposed...supposed to die," Sirius muttered, voice painfully blank, as though it were an inherent truth.

"Give me your wrist." He felt fingers flutter against his cheek, sweeping away the tears. Leaving a smudge of blood under his eyes. Remus caught Sirius' arm, hastily rummaging through his book bag, fingers grasping onto a small brown bottle. Dittany. He yanked it out, squeezed a few dots onto the raw, gaping cut Sirius had carved into his own flesh. The skin pulled itself together, weaving into just another scar adorning the pale wrist. Sirius only hissed Remus' name when the stinging pain the healing brought shot up his veins.

"You cut."

"Big on stating the obvious, aren't you?" he snarled, nose scrunching in anger; eyes sharp with agitation.

"I don't much feel like analyzing your motives right now," Remus replied, trying to keep his voice in control, and waved his wand so that the blood that had soaked into both their robes faded away. He took Sirius' hand in his own, lacing them together, fingers tracing each other's scars. Sirius' controlled cuts, wildly jagged, deep and broken, but always thin, always intended; Remus' a thick, ragged tear in his skin, long since healed, a feral mark. Both made by a monster they couldn't stop.

Sirius hunched into himself, anger seeping from his vulnerable position, and he squeezed his friend's hand tighter. But Sirius' face was too pale, long lashes resting once more on skin, chest rising ever so slightly, falling in the image of a shallow breath.

 _Dammit, he's lost a lot of blood...Merlin, what's that blood-replenishing spell!?_

"Res- _Restituere sanguis_ ," Remus casted, gripping his wand hard to ease his trembling fingers. Warmth flooded into Sirius' face and he shivered, eyes opening once more. His friend embraced him, hoisted him up gently, wincing when he felt Sirius' protruding ribs. _He's much too thin._

Remus wiped at his face before leading his friend to the door of the abandoned classroom he had found him in.

"Padfoot, I need to take you to Madame Pomfrey."

He shook his head vigorously. "She'll see them, Moony. I don't want her to see." A note of panic rung in his words.

Remus sighed. "You feel alright?" He twisted around to see Sirius staring at the stone floor. "Physically."

"I'm fine."

Another sigh hung on the edge of the werewolf's tongue. "C'mon, Pads, let's get to the dormitory and I'll get a bath going for you."

The walk upstairs and to the bathroom was slow, the air between them tense. Remus filled the tub with water, stepping back and motioning for Sirius to get in once he was finished. The teenager merely stared at him awkwardly, and Remus' eyes were drawn to Sirius' hands, fiddling with the buttons on his collared shirt.

"Do you mind?" he asked pointedly, cheeks red, to which Remus blushed and exited the room.

The werewolf was still reeling from shock when he sat down on Sirius' bed. His mind stuttering, refusing to believe the obvious, pain clenching in his heart. Hurt spiraling through his body like coils of red-hot fire, tightening on his throat and slivering into his mouth.

 _I don't know what to do._

Remus felt invaded, cut open and left splayed out for all to see.

"Rem," Sirius' voice called, as if it couldn't decide if it wanted to be a yell or a whisper.

He scrambled off the bed, muttering his friend's name over and over under his breath, fingers shaking when he yanked open the bathroom door in a flash of panic.

Water almost up to his collarbone, Sirius was leaning onto the edge of the tub, his legs seemingly curled beneath him. His grey eyes, those Remus had come to love fiercely, looked up at him with desperation, as though the boy in front of him was a savior standing just out of reach.

He dropped to his knees and reached out to cup Sirius' chin in his hands, brushing back stray raven locks.

"I-I'm sorry," the teenager murmured.

Remus shook his head. "You don't need to be."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sirius trembled with each broken word, burying his face into the other's chest.

Wrapping his arms around his friend, Remus rocked them gently, hoping the rhythm would soothe Sirius.

"Moony, please," he pleaded, lifting his head, dead eyes glazed over with raw, carnal hurt. His words were softer than a whisper, distant and weak. _"Forgive me."_

"I already have."

Sirius merely squeezed his eyes closed and pulled away, little ripples forming on the surface of the water as he did. Remus let his eyes wander over his friend for a moment before stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door quietly behind him.

oOo

The oak swung its colossal branches above the Marauders, spraying dusts of snow onto their heads. Lily, who was walking with them to the frozen lake, smirking when Sirius shook his head like a dog in a half-hearted attempt to rid himself of the white powder.

"My hair!" he complained. James pulled off his own hat and shoved it onto his friend's head. Sirius glowered and muttered to Remus about his ears being smooshed, but James merely laughed.

"Wait up!" called Peter as he tottered through the snow, tripping over some object buried deep beneath it. Lily kindly offered him a hand up, feeling slightly sorry for the pink-faced boy.

"We can skate!" James enthused as he neared the lake. Lily could, indeed, see that a thick layer of ice coated what had once been water. Her heart fluttered at his brightening grin and she chastised herself for her foolishness, but her reprimand couldn't take away the joy that buzzed in her.

Remus shrugged. "I've never skated." Lily nodded, adding that she'd only tried once before.

"We never had a lake in London—not that Mum would let me and Reg go there," Sirius said.

But Peter, apparently perking up at the thought that he was, for once, one step ahead of his friends, excitedly told them that he'd skated plenty of times before. "My cousins live close to a lake, we go there every Christmas."

"Well, we've got to get you skating," James told Remus and Sirius, taking it as a personal challenge.

"I don't have skates!" Lily protested. "How am I supposed to do this?"

"Lily," the werewolf next to her laughed. "You're a witch." With a swish of his wand he had conjured a pair of brown, slightly tattered, skates. Sirius, who had on black skates adorned with glistening silver, smiled adoringly at his friend.

After fastening her own, Lily stood up shakily, unaccustomed to the shoes. She looked up to see that James was already sliding across the ice, long limbs flowing after him, messy hair ruffled by the wind. She almost lost her balance.

In a flash, Sirius swept onto the lake, speeding towards his friend in a dash of elegance, leaving a sharp, curving indent in the ice beneath him. Lily looked over at Remus and saw him staring at Sirius with the same expression James had planted on her face moments before. He glanced at her and they shared a guilty grin.

Peter was the third to make his way onto the ice, and he seemed to keep his balance well despite refusing to go as fast as the two before him had. Seeing now that James was coming back to the edge of the lake, Lily cautiously stepped onto the ice. He caught her hands and eased her forwards, her cheeks burning the entire time. She saw that Remus was carefully skating, calling out to Sirius who was spending half of his time gracefully twirling around and the other half falling considerably less gracefully onto his backside.

Skating turned out to be a pleasure when Lily got the hang of it. The Marauders held races across the lake and showed off their elaborate pirouettes, always ending in huddled heaps of twisted limbs and joyous yells.

Finally tired out, they settled down to rest on firm ground, replacing their skates with boots and their raucous laughter with tired smiles. Remus strung up a conversation with Lily about their favorite Muggle books, James and Sirius excitedly blabbering to Peter about, no doubt, another prank they were concocting.

"I'm guessing all this planning will end us up in Professor McGonagall's office," Remus pointed out dryly.

"Moony, mate, have more faith!"

James nodded earnestly at Sirius' remark as the boy tousled Remus' hair playfully. "C'mon, you know you love it."

"Getting in detention? I'd rather not," he said, voice both amused and affectionate.

Sirius leaned his mouth close to Remus' ear as though it were a secret, hot breath clouding the air before it melted. "Rem." Lily noticed Remus cross his legs firmly and uncomfortably readjust his position. She barely held in a laugh. "We're going to _turn everybody hot pink_."

"Isn't that getting a bit old?" The werewolf's words were breathless.

"And give them antlers." At Remus' conflicted look, Sirius added, "It's for fun, Moons. They'll wear off in a few hours." The other still said nothing. "We don't have to do it." He looked almost guilty, scanning his friend's face anxiously, but Remus shrugged him away, a jerk of his head indicating that it was a conversation for a later time.

A flash of movement at the corner of her eye made Lily peer around her shoulder, gaze settling on the forest.

"It's a deer!" she gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth. It was, indeed, a doe, her coat a soft, white-speckled cream, ears twitching as her large brown eyes met Lily's own bright green ones. "It's _adorable_ ," cooed Lily, standing up carefully.

She approached the doe slowly, hand outstretched, sinking down onto her knees so she wouldn't appear threatening.

"Come here, girl," she urged. "I won't hurt you." The doe stepped forwards, nose nuzzling Lily's hand. Smiling, she rubbed its soft ears. "You're pretty, aren't you?"

Sirius gave a sudden howl of laughter, causing the doe to flinch, gentle brown eyes growing ever wider.

"Oh shit," he gasped between peals of laughter. Remus muffled his own chuckles in his sleeves as to avoid the glare James had given his friend. Giggling, Peter turned to look at Lily; she shot the boy a confused look.

But Sirius was rising into hysterics, shaking silently, laugh edged with a frightening craze, bubbling sharply from his chest.

"Whoa, Padfoot, calm down," Remus said, his own amber eyes dark with concern.

Sirius gasped for breath, choked on the crisp air. Lily had turned from the deer, frozen with indecision, vision raking over the teenager's huddled, embarrassed form. Despite having an arm around Sirius, Remus looked just as helpless as she felt.

The long-haired boy pulled himself hastily to his feet, wheezing a "I'm gonna go, see you later" to the others. He almost ran away.

"That was sudden," James commented, but his face was a mirror of Lily's own distress. He looked at Remus, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Remus replied with a confused shrug.

"Do you know something?"

"James, please."

"For fuck's sake, Lupin, answer me!"

"I don't know any more than you should." Remus' voice was tinged with cold.

Lily hadn't noticed the doe had fled until she moved to seek a wisp of comfort, of calm, and her hand touched nothing but empty air.

"What's that supposed to mean?" seethed James, fists jammed into his coat pockets.

Remus pressed his lips together tightly and refused to say another word.

Often called by her friends the peacemaker, Lily was at loss for how to respond to the situation; the Marauders, in all her time at Hogwarts, had never been seen fighting so sharply, voices dark and serious. Sure, she had witnessed James and Sirius grow angry at Peter or Remus blow up and tell them to go away and stop bothering me! or Sirius, wild with too much to drink, scream at his friends—but never such cold words. It had always been fire, a burning spark crashing through the moment like a strand of lightning, an urge to yell and berate and become furious at their most trusted companions. Never ice.

"How about we go inside?" Peter offered timidly, seeming just as puzzled as Lily.

Both James and Remus obliged without a word, rushing to follow Sirius into the castle and up Gryffindor tower.

A strangely high-pitched, terrorized scream reached Lily's ears and she winced. "What on earth is that!?" An agonized, guttural yell echoed.

They bolted up the remaining stairs and burst into the hallway that lay before the common room portal.

Her heart leaping up into her throat, accompanied by bile, Lily stumbled backwards, back into the stairwell. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Peter squeak and cover his eyes desperately. Remus had gone white. James' cheeks, in contrast, reddened.

"Snape!" he choked out.

Sirius was on his knees, hands splayed out in front of him, blood oozing around the spasming fingers. One of his hands held his wand. His shoulders were hunched over the prone figure of Severus Snape, who was bleeding profusely from a rip in his chest.

"Sev!" Unable to stop the overwhelmed tears bursting from her eyes, Lily rushed forward and put her hands to his face, hastily feeling for a pulse in his neck. Gasping half-words turned into outright sobs as she shook her former friend by the shoulders, her lips hysterically forming a whisper of his name.

The fat lady kept screaming.

It seemed to all merge together, Severus' palid face and her tears and Lucius Malfoy shouting, _"Black did it!"_ and Professor McGonagall dragging them away from the teenager's body.

Her next memories were of a boy with messy black hair tipping a cup of bitter liquid into her mouth and murmuring about pepper-up potion and dreams and how the world was okay. And she wasn't sure if she believed him, but as stress flooded out of her aching body, Lily relaxed into pillows that looked vaguely like the ones in Muggle hospitals and decided, for now, to sleep.


	19. Blamed

**AN: Hello everyone! I previously forgot to update this chapter so a hole was left between chapters 18 and 19, which have now become 18 and 20. Sorry for the inconvenience. As always, please review!!**

 **Trigger warnings: curses and derogatory slurs (including the f-word that is not fuck), trauma-induced hallucination, child abuse, suicidal thoughts.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Sirius' forehead was pounding as if his racing heart were imbedded there, a constant, pulsing reminder of the panic sweeping through him.

He was so dizzy… all Sirius wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Forget.

It had been okay. They had been skating. His friends had laughed, had looked at him with such open joy; carefree for an instant.

But now there was no instant. Now he sat in Dumbledore's offices, glaring at the portraits of the past headmasters. Now all there was was an eternity.

"Mr Black, you do not have any witnesses to prove you innocent, do you not?" Dumbledore asked, his brow furrowed into creases, those piercing blue eyes always rising Sirius' instinct to pull his occlumency shield over his own eyes.

"I wouldn't do that!" he countered, tasting the terror that mingled with the fury in his mouth.

"You have a record of attacking Mr Snape."

"I didn't do it, I didn't do it!" Sirius was shouting, face heating up, throat already burning.

"Mr Black, please calm down."

 _I'm not like them! I'm not like them! Haven't I proved myself enough?_

With a dramatic clashing sound, the door banged open. James stepped into the room, chest puffed out with an air of proud defensiveness

"Did you attack Snivellus?" James asked loudly."James, I'm not sure this is the best way to find out," Remus said quietly. "Sirius, why are you here?"

"I did not attack Sniv-Snape!" Sirius nearly yelled. His breathing was erratic, heart pounding in his chest in a way he knew wasn't supposed to happen, desperately shameful. "I-I heard a scream and found him lying on the ground...covered, covered in blood."

"Mr Black, I'm afraid this offense is too serious to take your word on it when you don't have any witnesses to prove you are not lying. You will be suspended for a week," Dumbledore said.

Sirius paled.

Remus' hand twitched, as though he thought to put a hand on Sirius' shoulder. He didn't. "No." Words edged with a growl, a warning that echoed of teeth splitting bone, splinters flying into gums. And then his eyelashes lifted, eyes widening in a guilty shock. "Please, Sir, why does it have to be suspension? Surely it would be much better to keep an eye out on Sirius at Hogwarts."

"Is there anything going on at home that renders you incapable of going back?" Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles slid slightly down his nose, catching the glitter that shone from the window's sun-spangled glass. "Anything that I should know about that is happening there?"

Panic was coursing up his body in strokes of vulnerability. A thousand images flitted through his mind, a thousand memories—under a table, knees raw against the wooden floor, as a storm cracked overhead; the hot breath of alcohol huffing down his neck; the taste of blood in his own mouth as a boot fell down sharply at his jaw; the leering faces of his captators, his parents—control, control.

Sirius deserved it; he knew he did. He had betrayed his family, let himself dishonor them, he was nothing but a piece of scum—

"Padfoot?"

 _James_. Sirius stumbled backwards dizzily, almost knocking into his friends before they caught him. It took every ounce of his self-control to remember to not cringe away, to remind himself that they were only there out of duty. They wouldn't want his grasping, shriveling mess on their hands, of course.

Dumbledore fixed him with his piercing blue gaze. "I will alert your parents. Please pack up and come down here as quickly as you can."

Sirius nodded numbly and followed his friends out of the headmaster's office. No one spoke—there was nothing anyone dared to say. Not even Remus, with his blazing amber eyes, not even James, who looked, for once, frightened instead of outraged, not even Peter, who always had so many questions.

It was only after a few moments of wildly disoriented packing that Sirius began to imagine all the different scenarios that could occur once he arrived at his house. The stairs were always an option, he supposed, though surely his mother wouldn't want to have to occupy herself with cleaning up the blood for the hundredth time. They were impeccably polished by Kreacher every morning, Sirius knew. Another mistake sprawled out over the once-perfect wood. Dull.

"We need to go back," Peter whispered once they saw that he was standing in the middle of his door, unmoving. Swallowing his fear, Sirius donned his Black mask of cool indifference and walked to the headmaster's office, heart leaping in his throat with every breath.

Straightening his back—he didn't want to give his father yet another reason to beat him—Sirius paused before walking into the room.

"Don't come in," he whispered to his friends, meeting their eyes for the first time since the skating.

"Sirius!" James protested loudly.

"Please let us," Remus murmured.

"Please don't."

Orion was waiting for him. Sirius stepped next to his father and he grasped his arm so hard Sirius bit his lip to stop an intake of breath. He didn't look at his friends. His friends, with James' overeager smiles at Christmas, pestering his parents again and again for the holiday pudding and receiving nothing but a gleeful shake. His friends, with Remus too gentle, too gentle for him—didn't he know what Sirius had done, hadn't he seen the blood-slicked quill and cold Black mask? No, no, he didn't know about the time Sirius stood next to his father and watched a muggle girl's empty eyes as they hung from the end of a noose, his noose. His friends, Peter's shaky hands and watering eyes and he despised them, he loathed that weakness.

And his friends. Standing, arms limp at their sides, faces pulled away from him in a sickening blur. Then the apparition was over, and he was left home too soon.

Thin arms wrapped around him, long nails piercing into his fiery skin and leaving half-moon crescents. Frigid, blisteringly cold indentations. He froze.

Where was the blow? The blow had to be coming, it couldn't be this—this...what was it called? Sirius' muddled mind flirted through synonyms; affection and fear and confused bittersweet—those aren't synonyms, silly idiot, Remus would say. Only for you.

He could feel his breathe quicken, hitting the roof of his mouth with stinging force, raising the hairs on his arms and tightening his legs. Fight, flight, submit. That must have been Padfoot, Sirius reflected blurrily. He would lose, he always lost, there was no point in cracking his dignity for a battle that wouldn't serve, nor in fleeing. They found him, they always found him. He had known that since he was six; old news. Safety is relative, compromised, a myth. Always.

Submit. He blinked and blinked and tried to soothe the terror in his heart with lies.

But she was speaking, his mother—saying something about coming around and phases and habits finally broken.

"Your lessons served him well, Orion." Walburga sounded nearly happy, nearly proud.

Proud, proud, that was good, wasn't it? He hadn't had that in a while, not since he watched that muggle's body shrivel up in incandescent flames—

And he was off, burbling some nonsense into the crimson bubbles that his fast, slurred words had dragged from the blood gathering where his teeth had sunken into his cheeks. It was all guilt, guilt eating away at the shine of memories that wouldn't leave, that he deserved because goddammit, I let them die.

"No, no," his father was crooning. "Don't be sorry, you hurt him. You almost murdered."

His hands were quaking out of control.

"Kreacher! Go prepare a special dinner for our son," Walburga was ordering.

 _Get me out, stop, stop this!_ Sirius stumbled past Regulus and threw himself into his room, door closing behind him with a rattling crash. He gritted his teeth at his own flinch. The Blacks had gotten under his skin, they had driven their carved ebony-handled knives into him, wedged them between his bones and blood, taught him to cringe at raised voices and tie a rope around his own neck. Now, for the final act of tragedy and chaos, they would turn him into one of them. As Sirius' eyes drifted upwards into nothingness, a phrase written by a muggle man he shouldn't even know about sung leeringly in his mind. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

oOo

He was an actor, a player, nothing but a wax figurine who's mind no longer belong to him. Neither did any measure of control, he realized upon sitting down at his family's dinner table for the first time in years. He counted time in cigarettes. Between coming to dinner and ending up shutting himself in the bathroom vomiting bile into a toilet until he realized he couldn't throw his own memories down the ceramic basin: five cigs. After vomiting: ten cigs. Before dinner: one cig.

His hands were shaking again. They never did seem to stop. He didn't light another for fear of setting the room on fire instead of himself—though maybe leave that for a different day. Nicotine stained the inside of his fingers and the outside of his lips.

"Why aren't you eating?" Orion demanded of his son, fixing him with a steely glare from across the table. Sirius settled himself with staring just south of the gaze.

Walburga, however, was not discouraged from her pride. "You're finally becoming like us—I told you, Orion, he would turn eventually—"

"I didn't."

"What?" Regulus looked up from his dinner. His dark eyes flashed with something that, if Sirius didn't know better, he would have pegged as concern.

But he felt numb with the poison his family had wrought him into. "I never wanted to be like you, I didn't hurt anybody, I would never—" Sirius' voice rose in its certainty. One last fight, one last fight for what he knew was right. And then he would accept his death by hands other than his own.

"Say that again," his father snarled, eyes narrowing into their ever-familiar poisonous darts.

Out of the corner of his vision Sirius saw Walburga urging Regulus out of the room, casting her other son a disdainful glance before she exited.

"I don't want to be a vile, pureblood-obsessed, muggle-hating idiot! I don't want to be like you!" His screams were firm, proud, but instinctively he clambered out of his chair to stand, if a little dizzily.

"YOU-YOU FILTHY SHAME OF THE FAMILY!"

"Good. I want to be." The words slipped out before he could stop them. Crushing pain enveloped him and he fell before his fingers could fumble for his wand, earning himself repeated kicks to the stomach. Sirius threw up what little he had eaten, shaking uncontrollably. His throat burned rawly—he had thrown up more than four times over the past hours.

"NASTY LITTLE BLOOD TRAITOR! MUDBLOOD-LOVER! YOU FUCKING DEFECT, YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH A HALF-BREED!"

"Don't bring Remus into this! DO NOT CALL HIM THAT!" Sirius bellowed from the floor, anger blurring his vision, his voice breaking off in coughing hacks that shook his body, making his throat sting.

"Turn around," Orion ordered, his voice harsh venom.

Sirius clung to the floor with a whimper. It hurt too much to move, his head was spinning, he couldn't get enough air. He gasped, but it would not—could not—reach his frail lungs.

"Pathetic," his father sneered, eyes narrowing. "Now obey me."

Sirius retched out a cough, the world blurring around him. His father grabbed him roughly and flipped him around so Sirius lay on the floor, nose bleeding from the impact. He ripped off Sirius' shirt, a cry rising in the boy's throat when he felt a knife's silver blade tracing lightly upon his bare back.

"You will pay," Orion hissed. Then he plunged the knife into Sirius' back.

Sirius screamed, fingers curling into fists, his body spasming and contracting with the pain. Sobs rose in him, tears squeezing out from beneath his tightly closed lids. His mouth gasped open and closed with every cry.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Orion snarled, carving into Sirius' flesh.

"I-I'm sorry!" Sirius half-screamed, half-sobbed. "Please! I'm sorry!"

"Coward," his father hissed in his ear, driving the knife's blade deep inside Sirius' body. " _Faggot_."

A sound of raw pain, pleading and pure agony, tore from his throat in a howl and scream merged together.

When Sirius' father left him bleeding out on the dining room floor, fingernails digging into the wood and forehead shuddering against his own tears, he left not Sirius, but a broken star, it's light finally gone out.


	20. And Another Moony to Protect

**AN: Looks like this is the real Chapter 20 this time! Sorry for the mixup with the chapters, I hope it didn't cause too much trouble.**

 **Trigger warnings for depression, child abuse, etc..**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Sirius cracked his eyes open to find himself laying in the Black parlor. He took a deep inhale and pain spiked against his temples.

"Shush, Pads, don't cry," the Remus voice in his head murmured.

"R-Rem?" he wheezed, and lifted his eyes to the edges of his vision to attempt to find the Werewolf. When he moved, pain roared in his whole body and he immediately stilled, tears blurring his vision.

"Don't cry, you're not a baby."

"I kno', Moons," Sirius reminded his friend, slurring his words carelessly, and forced himself slowly, painfully up the stairs and to his room.Collapsing face-down on his bed, he caught sight of his back in the mirror, where two words were carved. Blood seeped from the cuts, a sick sort of slow.

 _Toujours Pur._

Sirius closed his eyes as the cold wind hit him, trying not to shiver. His window was open, he could freeze to death. A breath rattled weakly in his chest.

What did it matter anyway?

oOo

Locked in his room; a classic punishment, he had to admit, but it remained unamusing. A minimal amount of water was delivered to him by Kreacher every day, accompanied by slurs. Faggot and freak seemed to have become his favorites; Sirius would order him out and then crawl under his bed, ignoring the shadow of Remus watching in the corner of his room.

Under his bed it was relatively warmer than the rest of his freezing room, a place to hide. Wavering safety.

The first day after what the Remus voice had dubbed The Dinner was possibly the most painful.

"Bandage it with something," Moony had insisted. "It's going to get infected, Sirius, that could kill you."

He dozed uncomfortably the entire day, but barely managed any solid sleep, those few hours he did get filled with nightmares. Sirius was only woken from his feverish despondency when his friend murmured in his ear, so close and real that he could practically feel him, "I don't want you to die."

 _I don't want you to die._ Managing to wrap some bandages made of torn sheets around his torso was much harder than he expected.

The next beatings followed randomly; a potion that made his throat sting being forced down his throat, think coils of rope wrapping his wrists together because Father was drunk again, the Cruciatus Curse wearing on his body until he felt utterly lost.

By the end, Sirius was exhausted.Empty.He was hollow; eyes vacant, spirit diminished. He didn't care if he was beat, didn't care if he died, just didn't care. He felt so used that this wasn't his body anymore.

And with that emptiness, Sirius stepped out of McGonagall's fireplace and into her office. He had worked his face into a still mask, lips pressed together coldly and brows narrowing over grey eyes. Yet he felt a pang of relief when he caught sight of his friends, James and Remus peering at him anxiously, Peter nervously twitching, his eyes as wide as saucers. He took notice of McGonagall, whose eyes were intent on his face, but ignored her. Crossing his arms with an almost arrogant air, Sirius straightened his posture and cleared his throat; his friends were staring at him as though they thought he would drop dead.

"Padfoot!" James burst forward, wrapping his arms around Sirius, squeezing him before he could react. Hands fell hard onto his back and he scrambled away from the figure clinging to him, blackness flashing in his vision and he couldn't breath couldn't breathe—hands latching onto his shirt, pulling him closer, flecks of spit flying into Sirius' face, intermixed with growls of _traitor_.

James stepped back as if he had been shocked. Sirius swallowed his breaths and rested a hand on the wall. Dizziness hung in his brain like a swarm of flies crowding him; unsure, he fixed his eyes on the ground.

James' face was heavy with guilt. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—how—where are you hurt?"

Sirius let cool indifference slide over his features once again. This was important, to keep his emotions under control. The only thing he knew how to control. _What would they say if they saw me like that?_

Peter squeaked out a question. "How was it?" His fingers fumbled at his pockets, fidgeting.

"Hell."

Voice ever so icy, bitter with cold. Something that might once have been a smirk twitched a corner of Sirius' mouth.

Remus then fixed his eyes on Sirius, his voice soft and controlled, grounded. "Sirius, are you okay?"

It almost broke him, that voice. He gave a swift nod then and walked through them, not looking back at their worried murmurs.


	21. Worries

**AN: Formatting! I cannot express how much I hate it. This site is a pain. Anyways, I recently went back and stuck in another chapter way back there because I left a gaping hole between either chaps 18 and 19 or 19 and 20 (I forgot, sorry), so if you haven't caught up on that you may want to go back. Thanks for sticking with me, guys.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Trigger warnings.**

 **Please review!!**

The library felt like a sanctuary, glowing in the yellow evening as though it had been lifted straight through the dusty pages of a fairytale. A certain Remus Lupin had not hesitated to settle into a crook of the maze of bookshelves and pile more than twenty books around him. His novel fortress, however, refused to keep out pestering thoughts.

Remus sighed for the hundredth time--he was probably an old man by now--and looked over his book at Sirius, who looked half-asleep and half-dead.

But it wasn't his condition that scared Remus the most. It was his eyes. The usually stormy gray orbs were now empty. Unknowing, uncaring.

And Remus knew Sirius was in pain. Not only his body, but him. Him, the 16-year-old who awoke screaming during the night, who spent hours running, who ignored his friends and skipped his meals. Him, because he was shattered, breaking. Not the smiling Padfoot or the cold and indifferent Mr. Black, but Sirius, who was in pain.

Remus had tried to approach him, but his friend had always shrugged him away. Remus wanted to push him, wanted to make him come out, wanted to help him, but he didn't pressure his friend.

James, on the other hand, was a different story. Either he was raving madly about Sirius and Sirius' parents or pestering his friend.

Speak of the devil, Remus thought morbidly as he watched James storm up the aisle to him.

"I'm reading."

"I have to have a talk with Regulus. Will you be my reinforcement?" James demanded.

"Regulus? Reinforcement?" Startled, he gaped at his friend.

"This Sirius-ignoring-us-thing has gone on long enough. I need to find out what they did to him to make him like this. As for the reinforcements, Regulus might be with his little Slytherin cronies."

"James, we shouldn't meddle with Sirius' family. Whatever your good intentions are, your plan won't work out. It might even make things worse for him when he's sent back home." Each word hurt, as rational as Remus knew he was being. He wondered why sometimes people said the exact opposite of what they wanted to say. "I won't let you."

James frowned, tousled his hair, pinched the bridge of his nose.

Remus exhaled and cast another glance over at Sirius. "I know what you're feeling, James, but we can't help him until he lets us in."

"Let's go to dinner."

Slightly wary of the other boy's sudden change, Remus nodded hesitantly. Casting a last wayward look back to his book fortress, he headed out.

At the Great Hall, seeing Sirius had avoided dinner once more, Remus wrapped some food in a napkin and put it in his cloak pocket. Damn it, he wanted to hug that idiot so bad.

When an uncomfortable, arguably sad dinner had finished, James motioned Remus closer. Then, fixing his gaze on the other for a fraction of a second, James called, "Hey, Regulus!"

Oh, no. "James! STOP!"

Regulus halted. "What is it, Potter?"

"What did they do to Sirius?"

Regulus' shoulders straightened, lips tinned. "Why doesn't he answer that?" His voice was crisp in its dismissal.

A scoff from James. Remus' stomach sunk to below his navel at the fury in the hazel eyes. No one messed with angry James. "So you see it? And you just let it happen?!"

"I assume you Gryffindors would just jump at the chance to be brave, wouldn't you? Slytherins are smart, however, not like you who'll just jump right into a battle before weighing you chances." _Slick_ , Remus couldn't help but think when Regulus cocked an eyebrow. "So yes, I do."

But this time it was Remus who couldn't keep his temper. Bile festered in the back of his throat. How dare this slick rat show his face in here after leaving Sirius to die? "What--is-- _wrong_ \--with--you?" He punctuated each word with a hissing exhale. "You're his brother, asshat!"

Without another word, Remus turned and stalked off, James right behind him.

"Good job, Moony," Prongs said, his expression one of bizzare surprise. Remus could almost hear his thoughts: _did sweater-loving, rational nerd Moony just call a Black an asshat?_

Remus suddenly felt tired. He may as well pass out at this rate--the horror never seemed to end. He just wanted to envelop Sirius in his arms and keep him safe in a pocket of the world, never let him go again. Sirius deserved the whole universe.

He took the napkin from dinner out of his pocket and sat on his bed, waiting for Sirius to enter the room. Checking his watch every two minutes, he finally caught a glimpse of Sirius at four minutes past midnight. Remus rubbed his eyes and pulled himself to his feet, intercepting the teenager as he stumbled to his bed, nearly tripping over his own trunk in the dark.

"Here." He handed a now-steady Sirius the food-filled napkin. "You missed dinner."

He was immensely glad that it was dark; he didn't think he could bear seeing Sirius' shadowed, aching features when there was so little distance between them. Enough to move an inch and have their lips brush against each other's.

"Sorry," the black-haired boy muttered and took the napkin,

Remus frowned. "You don't have to apologize."

His friend shrugged uncomfortably, then winced in pain. He turned away, a flashing red sign screaming go away. Remus didn't.

"You can tell me," he said softly. "I would never report anything, I just want to know how bad...how bad your--he hurt you. And how to help you."

"So does James," Sirius scoffed drily.

"You know what James told Regulus?"

"Tell him what happens in the Black house stays in the Black house." Sirius abruptly pushed past his friend and pulled his bed's curtains around himself, leaving Remus standing in the dark, a heavy feeling settling in his heart.


	22. Back Home, But Not Really

**AN: Chapter 22! I hope you enjoy this and, of course, please review. Reviews are honestly my lifeblood.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own HP.**

 **Trigger warnings for depression, vomiting, child abuse.**

Sirius inhaled, exhaled.

Fingers shuddered, fumbling against cold sweat. Palms, placed on bent knees, rubbed raw against rough denim. Reaching up unsteadily, wiping at his lips. Trembling against the cracked gasps that coughed up from heaving lungs.

Inhale, exhale. Stand up. Keep running.

His father's voice rubbed against worn senses. Giving up already? Weak. You deserve this punishment.

"Keep running, love," the voice of His Remus whispered, shape shifting amongst the darkness of the abandoned quidditch field.

Sirius' entire body ached like every piece of him was being set aflame, one by one, muscle by muscle, tendon after tendon going up in flames, every bone flicked like a match. His heart pounded in his throat irregularly, and Sirius was so, so afraid that it would leap out of his throat all on its own.

"Can I stop now, Moony?"

No answer but the stirring of the wind against the school's stadium.

"Sorry," he whispered, knees crashing into each other, chest quaking like every moment of existing caused a tiny earthquake to rattle his insides.

"Sorry," he uttered again when he was back in front of his dorm's bathroom mirror. His eyes raked down his body. He had gotten so thin, bones protruding as though they were ready to break out from the prison of his body. Grotesquely skinny, his hands shaking like they had no idea how to function any more. What was this messed up shadow of a person Sirius saw in the mirror? This couldn't, this couldn't be him.

But it was. Sirius was looking into his own eyes. He was a broken, good-for-nothing Black who was too afraid of his own parents to fight back. What good use was a messed up traitor with nowhere to go?

His gaze fell on the cuts slashing diagonally down his wrist. They were pathetic reminders of everything he couldn't bring himself to complete. And the bruises, the marks down his back, his torso, up his collarbone, ghosting across his face like a slap that carried too many ancient rings, they were simply marks of his weakness. He wanted clean skin, new skin, skin and a mind that hadn't been infected.

But dying was the only thing he was good at.

Sirius went back to bed.

There are some things you cannot hide from your friends-like if you are extremely happy about something; if a family member has died; if you are hurt or sick or maybe immensely angry at them. It is especially hard to hide something from your friends if you share a dormitory and, per say, forgot to cast a silencing charm on your bed. And that is exactly what befouled Sirius Black as he dropped into a deep sleep and awoke, only a half hour later, with a ragged cry. He emerged from his terror drowned in sweat, gasping for every harsh breath he drew, pain striking him in sharp blades whenever he moved. His sight was impaired by bright blotches of silver, dancing with every scrape of his dry lungs as he clutched the sheets below him in panic. He couldn't draw a single breath; it was stuck in his throat, rasping weakly before dying with a final flutter. Agony pulsed in his chest, and suddenly the world felt heavy around him, as if the air was thick with hot was greeted by two more yells, both belonging to his best friends.

"What-?" James yelped, sleepiness still clouding his mind and vision as he jumped up from his bed, knowing who had screamed into the night with such fear and pain. "Sirius!" Both scrambled to him just as he rolled over and threw up, shaking.

Then he lost his mind.

oOo

"Pads, Pads! Padfoot! Sirius!" James learned over the edge of his flinched and then spasmed, coughing wildly admits the mess of tangled sheets, sweat, and vomit. "No, no, no! Moony, he's sick!"

"I'm aware, James!" Remus held out his hand to touch Sirius' burning forehead, but the boy moaned, squirming away from the touch. "I'm sorry...sorry. Please...please..." Remus couldn't tell whether it was sweat or tears on his face. "Shh, Sirius, It's okay. No one's going to hurt you here...shh. James, he's going to throw up again. Help me get him to the bathroom." Remus anxiously pulled Sirius out of bed with James' help and they half-carried, half-dragged him to the toilet, where he retched again. Not that he had much to throw up, Remus noted sourly. _He hasn't eaten barely anything since he came back._ Slumped back against the cold wall, still trembling, wisps of hair stuck to his face, mouth left slightly open, grey eyes throwing up once more, Sirius was reduced to heaving dryly, shaking, his shirt sticking to his back as if it were just another layer of skin. "He's got a fever," Remus muttered. "We should take him to Madam Pomfrey."

"Would he want us to? His secret would be out if she saw the state he's in. He has scars, doesn't he?"

The werewolf shrugged hesitantly. "Maybe he's getting better...he stopped throwing up." As much as he said it, Remus knew it was blind hope.

"He literally can't."James let out a gust of breath and rubbed at his eyes."Y'know, I'm...I'm right here," Sirius' voice slurred. He was pushing himself clumsily away from the toilet, wiping his face and blinking his eyes furiously like they couldn't keep open on their own.

"Dude, you're covered in sweat," James said, but his tone was softer than usual. It was always softer with Sirius nowadays; pleading, protective. It had become another one of their unspoken rules. Rule number one: No ratting each other out. Rule number two: Take care of Remus during the full moon. And now, rule number three: Protect reached for Sirius, yanking up his shirt. Dazed with a delayed reaction, Sirius stared wide-eyed at thin air for a moment before scrambling backwards, pushing himself into the wall and huddling down, arms wrapped around himself, eyes flashing in panic. He had covered himself up, but not before his friends glimpsed what was carved into his back. "Sirius, turn around!" James' voice grew louder with the increasing drew deeper into himself, a mixture of a howl and a twisted, indiscernible plead escaping his mouth.

"Sirius, shh, it's okay. You're not with your family. You're not going to be hurt. You can trust us. Shh," Remus soothed, placing his hands on Sirius' shoulders and attempting to ignore his friend's violent flinch.

"Pads, you're not at your house. You're in Hogwarts, 'kay? You're home," added the bespectacled boy beside them, meeting Sirius' eyes. Remus felt a surge of affection well out of his chest, soften the despair that had lodged itself in his heart. Merlin, he loved his friends.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he told Sirius, and every word stung in his throat. "You will never go back there if I can help it." And Merlin, he loathed Sirius' parents-no, they didn't have the right to be called that anymore. _His abusers_. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Sirius. Never again."

Lifting his head, Sirius moved into Remus' embrace slowly, wincing as his friend's arm hit his open wound. The Werewolf cast a long glance at the words carved in Sirius' back as he held him, trying to contain the rage that flooded his senses, reigning in the furious wolf that would tear the Blacks to pieces in an instant if given the chance. " _Toujours Pur._ Always pure," he muttered furiously. Sirius cowered deeper into Remus' arms as though he were trying to make himself disappear in the embrace and James' brow furrowed angrily. "They dug into his flesh, Remus! They carved words into his back!" Shaking his head in disgust and anger at the image that James had conjured in his mind, Remus stood up, pulling Sirius up with him. "Come on, we've got to lay him back down."

"I'll get his sheets."

"Thanks." Realizing that Sirius was not going to make it to his bed if he had the next hundred years to drag himself, Remus bent down and, muscles straining at the exertion, picked the boy up bridal style. He was concerningly light.

Sirius' head lolled against Remus' shoulder, seeming once again asleep. Remus set him down as gently as he could and brushed the hair away from the other's two friends began to take turns watching him, neither wanting to leave him alone, but both tortured by his condition. They were frightened for him, wrathful at his parents, felt the same pain Sirius felt when he threw up and coughed from deep in his ragged lungs. By the end, Sirius was a delirious, feverish mess, throwing up nothing but bile, leaving all of them exhausted and Sirius himself pleading brokenly for release to thin air.

* * *

 **Hey look, I finally learned how to use line breaks! But seriously, I just wanted to drop in a note that this is awful writing and this is an awful story and mental illness shouldn't be dramatized like this. I don't even know why I'm doing** **this. Anyways, please review for my pitiful ass.**

 **\- Nova**


	23. Safety In An Old Woolen Jumper

**AN: Yep, it's me again. Happy New Years to everyone! Thanks so much to the folks who left reviews. To the ones who did not, REVIEW! I'm joking, but please, if you have time, just drop a little note or tell me what you want to see from the story. Though I have some sort of an outline, I'm not exactly sure where I want to go, and I'd love your input.**

 **Trigger warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, a bit of child abuse, and an unhealthy amount of dramatics. You guys know the drill.**

 **Hope you guys enjoy!**

James opened his eyes a crack to see a weak blaze of sunlight streaming in through the window. He widened them as he caught sight of Sirius' bed and a figure sitting down on the edge of it. In the daze of sleep, he had forgotten about the previous night; his stomach protested painfully against the thought. It was unbearable to see his formerly jovial, happy-go-lucky friend breaking down. But mostly, it made him angry. James nearly scolded himself—everyone knew what happened when James Potter got angry, and it was not pretty. This time, though, the Blacks definitely deserved the full burn of his wrath.

Drowsily getting up and slamming his glasses on his face, James made his way rather uncoordinatedly over to his friends. _You better be happy that you made me worry so much I got up early, bastard!_ As he peered down at Sirius, however, he realized that his joke would fall on somber ears. Not even a joke could begin to fix his best friend.

Sirius was entangled in his sheets, grey eyes shut tight, wrists wrapped up in bled-through bandages. He was laying on his back, hiding the carved wound and many whip lashes James had caught sight of the previous night, but exposing other scars both young and old as well as an array of bruises. And his body, his body was so thin, so vulnerable. Sirius was starving, dying, ribs showing up through the stark skin that was almost as pale as the white sheets twisted around him. It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't something romantic or brave or prideful; this was destruction. This was abuse and self-mutilation and someone split open in raw agony.

James winced at the sight of his friend. "Moony...how was it? I'm sorry I fell asleep when it was my turn..."

"So did I." Remus spared James a glance before turning his head down and rubbing his eyes ferociously. "But Prongs, all the scars…"

"His wrists," James said, leaning forward as he caught sight of the bandages that were wrapped tightly around his friend's wrists. "What happened, Moony?" he asked, though the answer he knew was coming was already written all over his face.

"He...he cuts," croaked Remus.

"W-What?" James wasn't an idiot, he knew what cutting meant. But _Sirius cutting_? Those were too words that didn't belong together.

The amber-eyed boy only sighed heavily. For once, James felt like joining in. He had spent so much of his time since learning about Sirius' abuse hating, raging, concocting plan after plan to stab those Blacks right in the heart with their own silver blades, that he hadn't had time for the heaviness of the situation to settle. Now James just wanted his friend back. He wanted pranks and punk rock and confiding in the dead of night and uncontrollable laughter and singeing their eyebrows with exploding cards and clean wrists.

"He slept through most of the rest of the night." There were unspoken words between them, but neither dared to touch on them, opting to sit beside Sirius and watch him helplessly.

Peter was the third to awaken, and when he did, he was completely and utterly baffled. After shooting a series of _What happened?_ and _Why?_ 's, by which Remus was, surprisingly, becoming increasingly irritable, James turned to explain everything patiently. If he couldn't do much else, at least he could help his friends.

"And good morning, Sirius." He turned to the pale, fragile figure sitting up in his bed.

Sirius pulled the sheets over himself and looked down, twisting the thin cotton over his hands. His almost-shoulder-length hair cast shadows on his bare collarbone. He took a few minutes to survey the situation, eyes sharpening when he realized what had happened. Jerking the sheet up to his shoulders, Sirius quickly hid his scars. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cause such a fuss last night," his first words were, somewhere between nonchalance and guilt.

"Sirius, you're our friend. We'd do the same thing for Peter or James and you do do it for me during full moons." Remus gave him a small smile and pushed the hair out of his friend's face.

James had jumped up now was now hovered anxiously over Sirius' other side. "Aren't you cold, Padfoot? I'll get you a sweater. Oh, and make sure you brush your teeth afterwards if you're up to it. You shouldn't go to class today, you're too ill. You had a fever all night, you can't go wandering through the whole castle in this state..."

"James," Sirius croaked. "I don't--"

He was cut off by Remus. "Let him worry, Sirius. He's happy channeling his inner mother hen."

The corner of Sirius' mouth lifted as James protested from where he was digging a sweater out of his trunk.

oOo

The Marauders were hesitant to leave Sirius alone-- "Your wound looked infected last night," Remus protested, joined by James, who said, "Padfoot, we don't want you to leave you where you can… y'know, be hurt!" and Peter, who added, "We stick together!" But Sirius insisted that he'd be fine alone, so after being taken aside by Remus and James and told firmly not to do anything stupid, his friends had excited the dormitory quite reproachfully.

Sirius heaved a sigh, wincing when his ribs gave a painful throb. Gently he lowered himself onto his back, ignoring his protesting wounds.

 _Great,_ Sirius sulked. Now he was left all alone with nothing to occupy him but his thoughts. They nagged at him, sounding eerily like his mother. _There's a pocketknife in James' bedside table_ , she said, voice silky. Sirius could feel a disgusted gaze raking over his body, setting every inch of his skin under siege. And suddenly his mother was screaming, and he was cringing. _Get it and do something right for once in your life!_

Sirius eased off of his bed but stopped after only a few feet. His toes had hit something warm, soft. Looking down, seeing that it was Remus' jumper, which had been hastily discarded this morning by the amber-eyed boy himself, Sirius collapsed down to the ground and pulled it close.

He had felt naked curled up on cold bathroom tiles, felt exposed, like someone had ripped off all his clothes and posted a picture of vulnerable, bare Sirius Black on a billboard for all the world to see. But his shirt _had_ been ripped off, and they _had_ seen his scars. They had seen how weak he was, and there was nothing Sirius could do to stop it. It was over, the Marauders were over, the best thing that had happened to him in his entire life was over; the other three wouldn't want to be friends with a beat-up, worthless traitor. Worse, they probably thought he was disgusting--seriously, who chopped up their wrists for fun?

Sirius hugged Remus' jumper to his chest, buried his face in the wool, which smelled vaguely of his friend and the crackling Common Room's fire and Earl Grey tea, fighting the urge to snatch the pocketknife from James' bedside table. Hurting himself had become an addiction. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. _I promised. I swore to them that I would not do anything._ A cough racked his body and he shivered as he clutched Remus' jumper and fell into a fitful sleep.


End file.
